Not for Anything in the World
by Penitent Rebel
Summary: Part Two of the "Not for Anything" series. AU. James Potter is alive and raising Harry. Goes through Harry's second year at Hogwarts. Rated T.
1. Flying Fords

Disclaimer the first: I don't own any of these characters.

Disclaimer the second: This story contains corporal punishment of a minor. Be ye warned.

Rated T

_Not For Anything in the World_

James Potter paced the floor in Albus Dumbledore's office. He found it hard to believe he was in this position. Dumbledore watched him pace but said nothing. "What should I do?" James asked him finally.

Dumbledore regarded James over his half-moon spectacles, not sure how to respond. He knew James Potter to be that rare thing, a natural parent. He seemed to know instinctively when his son, Harry, needed to be comforted and when he needed to be punished. Indeed, there had been an incident last term when Harry and three of his friends had been caught out of bed and Professor McGonagall, their head of house, had been rather too hard on them in Dumbledore's opinion. A few days later, Dumbledore had overheard Harry telling his three very jealous partners in crime that, rather than punishing him, his father had given him pointers on how to sneak out at night without getting caught. Dumbledore had found himself heartily agreeing with James, to his surprise, as he knew James had just made his, Dumbledore's, job all the harder. James understood that Harry had already been punished quite enough and now needed a good laugh. "What do your instincts tell you?" Dumbledore finally asked.

"I don't like what my instincts tell me," James responded, throwing himself into a chair.

What a day! First, he and Harry had been late getting started toward the Hogwarts Express. Then, when they finally got there, Harry and his best mate, Ron Weasley never came through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾ . James had waited what he felt was an appropriate amount of time and then tried to recross the barrier to check on the boys, only to find that the barrier was shut tight. He nearly went mental with worry then. He knew only too well what dark forces were after his son. His wife had given her life eleven years ago to protect him from them. He still recalled that day as though it were yesterday. He and his wife, Lily, had been in hiding with Harry, and James was going stir-crazy. It had been Lily's idea for him to take the evening away to visit his best mate, Sirius Black. When he returned, he found the dark mark over his house and the house destroyed. He did not dare to hope that Harry and Lily might have survived. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named never left survivors. He had felt as though he were drowning in a sea of grief then until Sirius had handed him the little blanket-wrapped bundle that was Harry. Somehow, miraculously, he had survived the attack that had left his mother dead, unscathed except for a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead.

When the barrier finally reopened that afternoon, James had rushed across it only to find that Harry and Ron were gone, along with Arthur Weasley's flying Ford Anglia. Molly Weasley was furious, but James was just scared. He was sure that the boys had been kidnapped, and there he was with no way to get to his son and no way of knowing who or what had taken him. Molly, who was quite the expert on raising boys, assured him time and again that, if she knew her son, he had convinced Harry to take the car. She told him over and over again that the most danger they were in was the danger of facing the very considerable wrath of Minerva McGonagall. James, however, was sure that Harry would never do anything like this and had told Molly so. It wasn't until the boys arrived at Hogwarts and spilled out the whole sorry tale that James really began to believe that Harry was truly safe. As it turned out, Molly was right. The boys had indeed taken the car of their own free will.

He and the Weasleys had arrived at Hogwarts together. The Weasleys had already gone to dole out their own punishment to their son, but James had stayed here trying to figure out what to do.

"James," Dumbledore's voice said, interrupting his thoughts, "You are a very good father. You should trust what your instincts tell you."

James groaned. His instincts told him that Harry needed tough love at the moment. James hated tough love. He much preferred being able to spoil Harry and play with him and hug him. James knew that Harry ought to have a spanking, but he really didn't want to give him one. James did not spank his son often. It had happened only three times before.

The first was when Harry was five. He had gotten angry at James and decided to run away to Sirius's house. Somehow he managed to call the Knight Bus; they never did figure out how, and the Knight Bus company was most unhelpful during the inquiry. Harry arrived nearly two hours later on Sirius's doorstep, suitcase in hand. By then, James was nearly frantic with worry. Sirius had immediately called James, something Harry considered to be a grievous betrayal, and James had apparated over, bundled the boy home, and then given him his very first spanking. Afterward, he decided that he had done his own father a serious injustice every time he had scoffed at the old man's assurances that a spanking hurt him more than it did James. While he had never said the tired phrase to Harry, there was not a doubt in his mind that it was true.

The second spanking had come when Harry was seven and had stolen James's broomstick to try out his flying. James, Sirius, and their friend Remus Lupin spent all afternoon searching for him. Finally, around dinnertime, he turned up, broomstick in hand, not a care in the world.

The third and final spanking was when Harry was ten and stole his father's wand to teach a local neighborhood bully a lesson. James had actually been tempted to laugh when the poor boy's parents showed up on his doorstep to inquire as to how Harry had managed to give their boy furry ears and a tail. James had thought the boy deserved it, really, but he couldn't exactly let Harry off the hook; Harry knew better than to play around with magic.

There had been a few other times as well when James knew he really ought to have given Harry a spanking, but when the time had come and Harry had turned those emerald eyes on him - Lily's eyes - he had not been able to go through with it. James sighed. He had honestly thought these days were over. Harry was twelve now, which James really thought was too old for spanking, but every parenting instinct James had told him that was what the boy needed. On the other hand, Harry was usually a very well-behaved boy, the occasional mischievous antics aside. He didn't cause anywhere near the havoc James himself had caused as a boy, a fact for which James was endlessly thankful. If anything, James thought Harry was far too serious. For about the millionth time in the eleven years since her death, he wished Lily were with him. She would know what to do, he was sure. Well, he reminded himself, she wasn't here, and he wasn't doing Harry and favors by making him wait while he, James, sat brooding in the sanctuary of Dumbledore's office. His decision made, he slowly stood, thanked Dumbledore for his help and patience, got the password for Gryffindor tower, and went to deal with his errant son.

* * *

Harry Potter sat nervously in the Gryffindor common room playing exploding snap with Fred and George Weasley. He was waiting for his father. His best mate, Ron, was sulking in their dormitory. His parents had already come and gone and his red eyes and painful walk upon his return to the dormitory had made it abundantly clear to all what they had done to him. Fred and George had, up until that moment, been a bit miffed at Harry and Ron for not including them in their prank, but after seeing the aftermath of Ron's punishment, they thought better of it and decided Harry deserved to be cheered up for doing them such a favor.

Harry's other best friend, Hermione Granger, was not very fun to be around at the moment, as all she seemed interested in doing was scolding him. Fred and George were cheerful company, although even they could not take his mind entirely off of his troubles. He wasn't sure what his father was going to do, but it didn't matter. Just knowing his father was angry with him was plenty punishment enough for Harry. He was secretly afraid that the reason his father hadn't come yet was that he was too angry to talk to Harry at all. He hated to think he had disappointed the man he looked up to so much. Most likely his father would just lecture him, but the thought of other punishments had crossed his mind.

After Ron's return, Harry briefly considered and then dismissed the possibility that he was in for the same treatment. His father hardly ever spanked him even when he was small, and he knew for a fact that his father now thought him too old for such a childish punishment. Harry jerked his head up as he heard the portrait hole open. As he made eye contact with his father, Harry felt his heart swan dive into his toes. He knew then what his punishment would be. Only one thing could put such a pained expression on his father's face. He rose wordlessly and followed his father out of the common room.

James led Harry to an empty classroom, magically locked the door, and cast a silencing charm. He knew Harry would be utterly humiliated if someone were to wander in. He conjured a chair behind Harry and ordered the boy to sit. Harry quickly obeyed. Then he conjured another chair across from Harry and sat down himself. Harry seemed suddenly very interested in his shoes. James's heart went out to his son. Sometimes it was difficult for him to believe how fiercely he loved this boy. The fear of losing him kept James up nights. It was that fear, more than anything, that drove James now. What Harry had done was incredibly dangerous. James reached over and put a finger under Harry's chin, forcing him to look into James's eyes. "Would you please explain to me what happened today?" He said quietly.

"The platform closed itself off after you went through. We tried to get through, honestly we did, but it was shut tight, so we decided to take the car. We didn't mean to worry everyone, and we never thought we'd be seen."

"I believe you," James said quietly, "But I'm having a bit of trouble understanding why, after you found the barrier shut, instead of getting help or just waiting for me or Ron's parents, you decided that stealing a car was your best option."

James saw Harry wince as he dropped his head and renewed his interest in his shoes. He had been in Harry's position enough times to know that he was thinking, "_It sounds so much worse when he says it like that._"

"We didn't think of it as stealing, Dad. We just thought we could get ourselves here on our own without having to be a bother to everyone."

"Harry, look at me." Harry's head popped up obediently. "Figuring out another way to get you to Hogwarts wouldn't have been any bother. And even if it were, helping you is never a bother. I'd much rather you bother me than do something so dangerous. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry's shoulders hunched more and more as his father lectured. When he spoke, it was in a whisper. "I'm sorry, Dad. Really, I am. I guess we weren't thinking."

"Well then, maybe a spanking will help you remember to think next time."

Harry offered no protest, but his body tensed involuntarily at James's pronouncement. This was not lost on James, who felt his heart break at this small act of fear. He again put a finger under Harry's chin and brought his face up. He wasn't crying, but James could tell he was trying very hard not to. His face clearly showed his misery as he looked at his father through glistening eyes. "I love you very, very much, but you stole a car and exposed the magical world to muggles. It's inexcusable, and you have to be punished. You and Ron should have just waited for an adult. Then you wouldn't be in any trouble at all. You simply can't go around doing dangerous things like this. You could have been hurt, or even killed. I - I don't know what I would do if I lost you." James's voice cracked with emotion and he left off talking a moment to retain his control. It was obvious that Harry felt horrid about his behavior. James fought the temptation to hug him and let him off with a stern warning. He knew nothing good would come of that. He would just think he could get away with this sort of thing. The boy needed a sharp reminder to be more careful in the future.

Having regained his composure, James decided not to delay any longer. "Harry, come here," he said firmly. Harry rose without a word and came to stand in front of his father. As he looked at his son, James saw that a single tear had found its way down his cheek. He sighed. "Lie over my lap," he said, steeling his emotions for what he was about to do. Harry obeyed, bending across James's knees. As soon as Harry was settled, James placed one hand on the small of Harry's back, in part to steady the child and hold him down and in part to comfort him and remind him that, through it all, he was loved and cared for, and that his father was there with him. The other hand, James raised quickly into the air and swung down hard across his son's backside.

Harry's stomach was twisted into knots as he bent over the familiar lap. He wasn't afraid, exactly. He trusted James and knew that he would never really hurt him, but he also knew from experience how much his usually-gentle hand could sting. Harry knew how much his dad hated to do this and was angry at himself for putting them both in this position. He could see the pain in James's eyes as he lectured. He knew he deserved a spanking for what he had put his father through if nothing else. How could he have been so thoughtless? He felt about three inches tall. He briefly wondered if it would hurt as much as it used to now that he was older. As soon as the first smack fell, he discovered that it would.

Harry willed himself not to cry, but let himself have the small comfort of wrapping his arms around James's leg. Despite his determination, it wasn't long before his bravado began to waver. After the seventh smack, he gave himself permission to cry. It was almost a relief for him to finally let go of his emotions. He also knew his tears meant the spanking would be over soon. James usually gave only a few smacks after Harry started to cry. Years later, Harry would wonder why he hadn't just started to cry early on and made all his spankings shorter, but the thought never even occurred to him when he was young. James probably knew that, Harry reminded himself as he thought back on this as an adult. If he had tried to cry prematurely, James probably would have known and continued the spanking. He always did seem to have a knack for knowing just what Harry needed.

The volume and intensity of Harry's cries increased with each of a final three sharp smacks. Then he heard his father say those wonderful words. "You can get up now, Harry."

Harry rose slowly, wiping his face with his hands as he did. His glasses were askew, so he quickly righted them and began the work of trying to gain control of his emotions. His father handed him a handkerchief, which he gratefully took and sobbed into with one hand, using the other to rub his stinging backside.

James gave his son some space. If he knew Harry, he would want it, but only for a little while. He was not disappointed. Soon, the boy stepped toward him with arms open. James enveloped him in a tight hug. Harry sobbed into his father's chest with an occasional "I'm sorry, Dad!" punctuating his cries. James didn't say anything, but just held him tightly, trying to communicate his love for the boy through his embrace and fighting with his own emotions. There wasn't anything in the world he hated more than making his son cry, and knowing it was for the best never made it any easier. Finally, to James's relief, Harry's cries slowed to sniffles and then stopped. James held him close until Harry pulled away.

Once again, James put a finger under Harry's chin and met his eyes. "I love you so much, Harry. Please don't ever do anything like this again."

"I won't." Harry assured him. Then, quietly. "Are you still mad?"

"No," James said quickly. "I wasn't ever really mad. Mostly I was just scared. But you don't need to worry about that now. You are forgiven."

Harry was in James's arms again then for a final embrace. James kissed the top of his head. Then he pulled Harry to arms length and said, "I'm going to walk you back to the common room, and then I want you to go straight to bed. Understand?"

Harry nodded. James placed a hand on his shoulder and led him out of the room. They stopped at a washroom along the way and James stood guard at the door to give Harry some privacy as he washed his face. After he had washed away all traces of his tears, he turned his back to the mirror and lifted his robes to check the damage. The skin of his backside was still a little pinkish, but other than that he was back to normal. It didn't even hurt anymore, but it did tingle a bit. He dropped his robes and felt them swish around his ankles, then he left.

His dad smiled at him as he came out. "How's the damage?" he asked slyly. Harry never could figure out how it was that his dad could know him so well, at least not until he had children of his own. Then he understood.

"Terrible," Harry said with mock gravity. "I've never been hurt so badly in all my life."

James laughed and ruffled Harry's hair, then flung an arm around his shoulder and walked him back to the portrait of the Fat Lady, where they exchanged a final embrace and a spoken, "I love you".

As Harry clambered back through the portrait hole, Fred and George looked at him expectantly. "So, what happened? Was he angry?" George asked.

"He was proud of you, wasn't he?" Fred continued.

"He lectured a bit," Harry said. It wasn't exactly a lie. He had lectured a bit. "And I have to go straight to bed."

Fred and George both shook their heads as they watched Harry walk away. They really hoped he knew how lucky he was to have James Potter for a father.

Harry changed into his pajamas quickly and climbed into bed. "Ron, are you awake?" he whispered.

"Yes," came a muffled reply. He heard movement as Ron crossed the room and sat on Harry's bed. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble, mate." he said, looking at Harry as though afraid Harry would hold a grudge.

"It wasn't all your fault. I went along easy enough. But it wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be."

"No, and it definitely wasn't worth the walloping I just got. What'd your dad do? He give you tips again?"

"No, he walloped me," Harry said matter-of-factly, ignoring the gasp of disbelief that came from Ron. He would have died a million deaths if anyone else found out, even Hermione, but he didn't mind Ron knowing. "Please don't tell anyone, though. It's kind of embarrassing."

"I won't tell. I guess everyone knows I got walloped. Fred and George probably told the whole school by now."

"I don't think they've told anyone, but it was kind of obvious when you came back in."

"I know. I wanted to have a little bit of time, but Mum usually thinks a little humiliation is good for us. She'll probably send me a howler, too. Say, you don't look like you just got walloped at all. Did he even hit you hard enough to make you cry?"

"Yes," Harry admitted, "but then we stopped on the way back so I could wash my face. He always said it was nobody's business when I got punished and that no one had to know unless I told them."

"You've got the coolest dad in the world, you know that?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "I do."

Walking across the castle threshold, James Potter sighed. He would send Harry a care package in the morning just to drive home that he was forgiven. Maybe he would wait a day or two. He knew Molly had plans to send Ron a howler and he didn't want his package to arrive the same day. No sense in making Ron feel jealous. James really thought Molly was too hard on her boys, but they were all good people so she was obviously doing something right.

Now that the ordeal was over, James was sure he had done right by Harry. He really was a good boy, he just needed to be reminded sometimes not to be so reckless. James smiled. Maybe his son was more like his old dad than he thought. Stealing a car, now that was something the marauders would have loved. As he left Hogwarts grounds and apparated home, he couldn't help chuckling to himself a bit over the prank. Now that the danger was past and the unpleasant business of punishment over, he could see the humor in Molly's anger and the look on Arthur's face when he found the car gone. He had a feeling that this would be a story that would be shared over the dinner table for years to come, James thought to himself as he arrived home and sat in his favorite chair.

It was easy to see in Harry's behavior that he was Lily's son, but it was nice for James to see a bit of himself come out every once in awhile, too. He was such a lucky man, he reminded himself, to have the honor of being Harry Potter's father. If he had known how difficult it would be on the front end, he might have decided he didn't want a child, but now that he had this wonderful, wonderful person on his hands, he knew he wouldn't trade in a moment of it, even the difficult moments. Not for anything in the world.


	2. Turquoise Tortoises

When Harry awoke the next morning, he was filled with a sense of excitement. Even last night's unpleasantness could not dampen his anticipation for what this new year would bring. Ron was still in a rather foul mood, but Harry could not blame him. The whole school did seem to somehow have found out about his parents' punishment. Fred and George swore they had nothing to do with it. "Even we have limits, little brother," they told him in unison when he asked them, but Ron was skeptical. Harry assured him it would all blow over soon enough, but Ron was angry enough to be murderous every time Draco Malfoy caught his eye and pantomimed crying and rubbing his eyes.

"Maybe I should punch him in his head. See how he feels when he really is crying." Ron muttered. Harry just shrugged, but Hermione took up scolding him for letting Malfoy bother him so much and didn't let up until Harry finally told her to stuff it at lunch. She glared at him in response but said nothing. Harry turned away from her scowling face and peeked up at the staff table. He wanted to know if Sirius was mad at him. When he met Sirius's eye, Sirius gave him a stern look for a few moments before giving him a wink and breaking into a smile. Harry returned the smile quickly; he didn't know why he'd been worried. Sirius was always so easy-going. Harry reckoned he'd only ever seen Sirius angry once, when Harry was five and ran away from home to Sirius's house. When his dad got there, Harry refused to leave until finally Sirius had shouted at him and promised to hex him if he didn't go home with his father and behave. To this day, it was the only time Sirius had ever shouted at him, although he did keep him after class once and threaten to turn him into a lavender gerbil if he didn't start paying better attention. Harry was mostly sure he was joking, but he still hadn't ever tested it. He turned away from the staff table back toward his friends. He wouldn't have astronomy until tomorrow, so he wasn't sure if he'd get the chance to speak to Sirius before then, but he did want to apologize to him. He was sure Sirius had been every bit as worried as his dad the day before. Sirius was probably the person he looked up to the most, after his dad. He hated to think of causing his godfather any grief.

They had Herbology that afternoon in Greenhouse Two. After last year's adventurous search for the Philosopher's Stone, Harry promised himself he'd pay better attention in class, but the morning's History of Magic class had already cured him of that notion. Harry was quite sure that no one, dead or alive, could make anything sound as boring as Professor Binns. Herbology turned out to be a different matter entirely. When they arrived at the greenhouse, Professor Sprout, the short, matronly Herbology teacher was waiting for them with several pairs of earmuffs, a few pairs of which were a particularly vile shade of pink and fluffy to boot. "Today, we're going to be re-potting mandrakes. Who can tell me what mandrakes are?"

No one was surprised when Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Mandrakes are magical plants that resemble humans. The cry of an adult mandrake is said to be deadly to anyone who hears it."

"Excellent, Miss Granger. Five points for Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout enthused. "Now everyone get a pair of earmuffs and put them on."

There was a mad scramble as everyone fought for a pair of earmuffs that wasn't pink, but soon everyone was sporting their new-found headgear. They all watched as Professor Spout took a firm hold on the leaves of the mandrake and pulled it out of the pot. Harry couldn't hear, but he suspected he wasn't the only one to let out a gasp of surprise as he beheld the roots of the mandrake. It was a baby, and it was clearly screaming its head off. Professor Sprout took no notice and forced it firmly into a waiting pot full of dirt. Then she removed her earmuffs and motioned for the students to do the same. "As these mandrakes are not fully grown, their cries are not yet strong enough to kill, but they will knock you out for a few hours, so be sure to wear your earmuffs. Gather into groups and get a mandrake and an empty pot and get started."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly found that re-potting the mandrakes was not as easy as Professor Sprout had made it look. Despite their clear distress at being out of the dirt, they didn't seem to keen on going back in, either. They flailed and fought as the second-years tried to move them to their new homes. By the time class was over, all the students were tired and dirty, but they still left the class talking excitedly about the mandrakes and wondering what would be waiting for them in Transfiguration and Charms.

That night, after a few games of Wizard's Chess in which Ron trounced him impressively, Harry fell into his bed, exhausted. He still hadn't had a chance to speak to Sirius, but he would tomorrow.

Toward dawn, Harry dreamed about his mother. In the dream, she was singing him lullabies and kissing his hair. He studied her face; she was so beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world, Harry thought. Then suddenly the dream changed and she was watching him fight Voldemort for the Philosopher's Stone. Just as she was about to leap between them and sacrifice herself again, the scene changed again and she was kissing him goodbye on Platform 9¾. Harry shrugged her off and boarded the train, then hung his head out the window, waving back at her as the train began to move, until the platform was out of sight. When he awoke, he felt cold and empty and lonely. He fumbled on his bedside table for his clock: 6:00AM. He got up and rummaged quietly in his trunk until he found a small square mirror. It had been a birthday present from his father the year before, when Harry was apprehensive about leaving for Hogwarts. Hid dad had one that matched and whenever Harry looked in it and called for his dad, his dad would hear him and they could talk. Harry's dad had one for Sirius as well. Taking the mirror, Harry went down to the common room and left silently through the portrait hole. He ducked into an empty classroom and shut the door, then he sat cross-legged against the wall. "Dad," he said into the mirror. He knew his father would be getting ready for work and would be glad to take some time out to talk to Harry. A moment later, his father's face appeared.

"Harry! Good morning!" James said, clearly delighted to be speaking to his son. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, fine." Harry assured him quickly. "It's just, well, I had a dream and I felt lonely. I wanted to see you." Harry cringed as he heard the childish words tumbling out of his mouth. He was twelve, after all, not some little baby who needed to run off to Daddy every few minutes. Looking at his Dad, he could tell that James did not see him that way, and he felt better.

"What was the dream about?" James asked.

"It was about Mum."

"Oh, I see."

"We were on Platform 9¾ and she was kissing me goodbye and singing me lullabies."

"Yes, she used to do that," James replied. "She had a very pretty singing voice, your mother. It's too bad you got my pipes. I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket."

Harry gave a smile at that. The only song he'd ever heard his father attempt to sing was "Happy Birthday" and hearing that was enough to know he didn't want to hear any more. "Tell me something else about her," he said quietly.

"She was quite possibly the kindest person I've ever met. She was even nice to Professor Snape. Quite a few people took the mickey out of her for it, too, but she didn't care. She always said he needed a friend. She used to get so furious at us when we gave him a hard time. She was something when she was mad, let me tell you. I was a little afraid of her before I found out she was all bark and no bite. I remember the first time I ever saw her. It was on the Hogwarts Express our first year. I remember I felt strange when I saw her, almost like I knew her already. She told me once she felt the same way, but then she took such an instant dislike to me that she wouldn't give me the time of day until our seventh year. She could be quite stubborn."

"Why didn't she like you?"

"I was, how to put this delicately, an arrogant toerag. I'm not proud of it. Luckily, I got over it. People grow, Harry. People change."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day."

"I wish I could have known her."

"I wish you could have too, kiddo. You would have liked her. She loved being your mother. It was something she had always wanted. I never saw her so happy as she was the day you were born. It was like she had been living her whole life for that moment."

Harry gave a sad smile. "I miss her, too. Is it mental to miss someone I've never met?"

"I don't think so. She was your mother. Of course you miss her."

Harry say quietly for a moment, not sure what else to say but not quite ready to let his father go. Finally, he took a deep breath and began his goodbyes. "I guess I should go get ready for breakfast. Have a good day at work, and thanks for talking to me, Dad."

"Anytime, kiddo, you know that. You have a good day as well. And next time you see Sirius, tell him I said hello and to stop sulking just because I beat him at wizard's chess and come visit me already."

"I'll tell him. I have class with him today."

"Well, behave yourself in there. Don't make him turn you into a periwinkle duck or whatever it is that he's threatening students with this year."

"Fuchsia dormice. I think he's onto rodents these days."

"Fuchsia dormice? That's not embarrassing at all. I think it would be rather novel to be a fuchsia dormouse. It would be a nice conversation piece."

Harry laughed. He loved that he could always count on his dad for a laugh. "Maybe I'll be cheeky to him today, see if he'll turn me into one so you can have your conversation piece."

"Fine with me. Just don't tell him I put you up to it. Then he'd probably turn me into that periwinkle duck, and that's the sort of thing that's only funny when it happens to someone else." James responded with a wink.

"Bye Dad."

"Bye, Harry. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Harry took the mirror and went back to the common room, which was just starting to show signs of morning activity. Joking with his father had put him in a good cheer, all traces of his earlier sadness gone. He climbed up to his dormitory and put the mirror away in his trunk, then dressed quickly and returned to the common room. Breakfast would be starting soon. It briefly crossed his mind to start on some of his homework, but he quickly decided against it. There was plenty of time and besides, he always seemed to work better under the last-minute flurry of a deadline. He had Astronomy first today, followed by double Potions and then Defense Against the Dark Arts with the new professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry groaned remembering his previous encounter with Professor Lockhart. They had met in Diagon Alley when Harry and his dad had gone, along with the Weasleys and the Grangers, to buy their school supplies. Lockhart insisted on making Harry pose for press photos and wouldn't listen no matter how many times Harry tried to get away. His dad had been no help at all. He just stood back and laughed. As a result, Harry was glaring in almost all the photos. In the remaining photos, he was hiding outside the frame.

As soon as Ron and Hermione came downstairs, the three trotted off cheerfully to the Great Hall. Breakfast was marred only by the howler Ron received from his mum. "As if walloping me practically in front of the whole school weren't enough." Ron muttered after Mrs. Weasley's amplified voice finally died down and the dull roar of student chatter began to return to the Great Hall.

"You're right, mate. She's bang out of order." Harry said encouragingly. Hermione only huffed.

After breakfast, they made their way up to the Astronomy Tower where they learned all about Southern Constellations.

"This is the Southern Cross," Sirius intoned while motioning to a star chart that took up one whole wall. All the boys looked bored, but all the girls gave Sirius their full attention. Harry was only vaguely aware of Sirius being handsome. He never really thought of Sirius that way; Sirius was just Sirius to Harry. Harry stifled a giggle as Parvati Patil let out a loud sigh beside him. He and Ron looked at one another and rolled their eyes. Girls were mental. "Is my lesson boring you, Mr. Potter?" Sirius's voice cut through his thoughts.

"No, sir." Harry answered quickly. Idle threats aside, Sirius was quite strict in class.

"If I have to speak to you again, you will lose your house five points. Pay attention."

Chastened, Harry blushed, but he was attentive after that.

"Can anyone tell me what the Southern Cross is most famous for?" Sirius asked. Hermione's hand immediately shot into the air. So did Harry's. It wasn't for nothing he had spent hours stargazing with Sirius. "Mr. Potter," Sirius called.

"It's used for navigation in the Southern Hemisphere. It marks the south, much like the Pole Star in the Northern Hemisphere."

"Excellent. Five points for Gryffindor."

Harry smiled, feeling redeemed. After the class was over, Harry told Ron and Hermione to go ahead and waited in the back until the classroom had emptied. "Sirius," he called, making his way to the front of the room.

"It's Harry Potter, the boy-who-thieved!" Sirius exclaimed. "I didn't think you had it in you, Pronglet. And here I was thinking I'd never been able to teach you anything."

Harry ducked his head and blushed. He wasn't ready to laugh over the escapade just yet. "About that," Harry said quietly. "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for worrying you."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. He knew James well enough to guess that Harry had probably been soundly smacked over the incident. He also knew that forced apologies were not James's modus operandi, and that Harry was most likely acting now out of his own free will and sense of guilt. Sirius sighed. This boy had an over-active conscience.

"Thanks, Pronglet. I accept your apology."

"And my dad says to tell you to stop sulking just because he beat you at wizard's chess and come visit him already."

"Did he? Well, you tell your dad that I'll be happy to whip his arse at wizard's chess any time of the day or night, but that some of us have jobs that require us to actually work instead of sitting around the office drinking tea and waiting for dark wizards to show their ugly faces."

"Tell him yourself. I'm not your messenger." Harry retorted, smiling.

Sirius let out a faux gasp of shock. "Such cheek, Pronglet. You'd best watch it, or I'll turn you into a turquoise tortoise."

"I thought you were on fuchsia dormice this year. That's what Fred and George said."

"That was yesterday. A man's got to vary his repertoire if he's going to stay believable."

"You think you're believable? That's so cute!" Harry replied.

Sirius laughed and reached out to ruffle his hair. The he turned Harry toward the door and gave him a playful kick in the bum. "Get to class, you delinquent."

"Later, Sirius." Harry called on his way out the door. He was still smiling when he got to Potions.


	3. Rivalries and Revelations

The following Saturday found James, Sirius, and Remus sitting in a corner table at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade sipping butterbeer. Sirius had just related his exchange with Harry from earlier in the week. James felt heartened, but not surprised, to know that Harry had taken it upon himself to set things right with Sirius.

"Did you make him apologize?" Remus asked, already knowing the answer. This had been an ongoing argument between the two of them. Remus thought that forcing children to apologize taught them to take responsibility for their actions, while James felt it taught them to lie. Sirius fell somewhere in the middle and so wisely refused to offer an opinion. James studied Remus for a moment before answering. James knew that both Sirius and Remus felt very parental toward Harry. After Lily died, he had leaned heavily on his two friends. He and Harry had even moved in with Sirius for a little over a year while James mourned and found his footing as a single father. After they left, Sirius and Remus took on a role rather akin to beloved uncles. They were Harry's playmates and confidants, spoiling him and watching with pride as he grew. Even now, they were both active forces in Harry's life, people he could turn to for help in any crisis. James was grateful for their help, their influence, and their support, but sometimes he didn't feel like listening to their advice. Harry was his son, after all, and, ultimately, his responsibility and his alone.

"Of course not." James replied. "He did that on his own. He's a good one."

"Did you punish him at all?" Remus asked pointedly. "You didn't give him tips again, did you?"

"Yes, I punished him, Moony. I'm not completely irresponsible. He promised me he'd be more careful."

"Doesn't he always promise you he'll be more careful?"

"Drop it, Moony." Sirius cut in. "James can handle the Pronglet. He doesn't need us sticking our noses in."

"I just think..."

"Drop it!" Sirius barked. "James said he took care of it."

"Damn," James said quietly, jerking his head toward the door. "Snivellus."

Remus and Sirius both turned toward the door just in time to see Severus Snape enter the pub. He looked around for an instant before seeing the marauders and making his way over to them, his eyes glimmering maliciously.

"Potter," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Severus," James responded curtly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to have a word about your son. I know you've been busy turning a blind eye to his disobedience, but he's out of control."

"My son is not your business, Severus, and I'll thank you to keep out of it." James replied, glaring across the table at his old nemesis.

"Tell me, do you even try to discipline him, or do you just encourage him and wink at his chicanery?"

"Of course he disciplines him," Sirius responded. Sirius had no love for Severus Snape, but their working relationship had forced them to civility. They had even had an almost-pleasant conversation once or twice. "Is there a point to this conversation or are you just trying to goad my friend?"

Snape ignored Sirius's question and continued to glare at James. "If he were my child, I would have beaten him within an inch of his life." Snape growled.

"How lucky for him that he's not your child," James countered, not missing a beat.

"I'll have my eye on him," Snape said quietly. "And, unlike you, I am not afraid to teach him some manners."

James was on his feet then, with Sirius and Remus close behind him.

"You coward." James spat. "You had better leave my son alone."

"You call me a coward," Snape said menacingly, "and yet you're the man who can't make a move without his two best mates behind him. I have more courage in my little toe than you have in your whole body."

"Yes, it takes an awful lot of courage to bully an innocent twelve-year-old," James retorted.

"James, sit down." Remus said so quietly that only James could hear. "Let it go."

"I would hardly call him innocent. I would prefer egotistical, unruly, and disrespectful. Just like his father." Snape continued.

Sirius stepped between them just as James went for his wand. "Severus, it's time for you to go," he said firmly.

"Clearly," Snape intoned. "I guess we know where the boy gets his awful temper as well. Know this. I am not impressed by you or your spoiled, arrogant offspring. You should tell your son that if he doesn't start behaving himself better in my classes, he _will_ face my wrath." Then he turned and left the pub in a flurry of billowing robes. Sirius turned back to James, who was breathing heavily, still holding his wand threateningly.

"You shouldn't let him get to you like that, mate. It's only giving him what he wants." Sirius said before quickly ordering James a firewhiskey.

James sat abruptly and gripped the table until his knuckles turned white. Finally, he turned to Sirius. "You remember that time you tried to kill him?"

Sirius eyed his friend. He hadn't exactly tried to kill Snape. He had just played a very dangerous, and decidedly unfunny, prank on him. True, it could conceivably have resulted in Snape's death, but Sirius hadn't exactly thought about that at the time. Luckily, James caught wind of the prank and put a stop to it. Sirius still felt guilty about it. He considered it the worst thing he had ever done in his life. He and his friends hardly ever spoke of it.

"Yes," Sirius said, cautiously.

"Maybe I should have let you."

"That's not funny, James," Remus said quietly.

"I'm not joking," James replied.

"I'm with Moony," Sirius said breezily. "It was a horrible prank, and it wasn't nearly worth what McGonagall did to me. I think I've still got the marks."

James winced. "Yes, she was brutal with a cane." James said. "I'm glad they've gotten rid of that thing. I'd hate to think of Harry on the receiving end of it."

"I can't imagine Harry ever doing anything to make her that mad." Sirius said with a smile. "He's much tamer than we were at his age."

"You're speaking of the boy who stole a car less than a week ago," Remus said, his tone incredulous. "And what about the incident with the dragon?"

"There wasn't any dragon," James said dismissively. "It was just kids playing pranks on one another."

"Actually, mate, there was a dragon," Sirius confessed.

James sprayed his firewshiskey all over the table and Remus.

"Say it, don't spray it," Remus muttered, grabbing a napkin to wipe off his face.

"WHAT?!" James said loudly, ignoring Remus's bad attempt at a joke. People from the next table looked over, but James didn't care. "There really was dragon?"

"Oh yes," Sirius said, laughing. "I could see the whole thing from my window. The Pronglet is not terribly discreet."

James worked his mouth as though he were trying to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, he found his voice again. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have actually punished him if I'd known there really was a dragon."

"That's why I didn't tell you. He'd already been punished enough. Besides, it was Hagrid's dragon. Harry was doing him a favor, helping him to get rid of it. I thought it was very decent of him, really."

"How do you know it was Hagrid's dragon?" Remus asked.

"Who _else _at Hogwarts would have a dragon?" Sirius asked in return.

"Fair point," Remus replied.

"I joked with him about it. I gave him advice on how to sneak out. I gave him ideas for pranks!" James was hardly listening to Remus and Sirius. His mind had already wandered down the path of what-could-have-been. "He could have been killed!"

"I wouldn't have let him get killed." Sirius said with mock exasperation. "Honestly, do you have no faith in me at all?"

"There really was a dragon?" James asked again, knocking back his firewhiskey in one gulp and motioning for Madame Rosmerta to bring him another one.

"I thought we had established that." Sirius said, still laughing. "The dragon was called Norbert, by the way."

"It had a name?" James asked, his voice rising again. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to march up to Hogwarts and kill him."

"Harry or Hagrid?" Sirius asked, trying to catch his breath from laughing.

"Why not both?"

"You can't kill him for something that happened months ago." Remus said, beginning to laugh along with Sirius. Sirius's laughter had always been contagious.

"Whose side are you on?" James snapped. "You're the one whose been giving me a hard time for not punishing him for that."

The three men looked at one another for a moment, suddenly serious. Then Sirius and Remus burst into loud laughter, holding their sides and doubling up. Despite his best attempts to remain stoic, James couldn't help but join in. It was a full five minutes before they regained their composure and sat at the table panting, tears of mirth streaming down their faces.

James suspected that Harry would be mortified if he knew how much time the marauders spent talking about him. He had no idea that he was their favorite topic of conversation. James ran his fingers through his hair and picked up his second firewhiskey. Harry just might make him go prematurely gray. He was the only boy in the world who could manage to find a dragon at Hogwarts. Someday, when Harry was of age, James would bring him to this very pub, buy him a firewhiskey, and make him tell the whole story of Norbert the Dragon. But there was no need to rush. Today, Harry was still a boy and, dragons and petulant potions masters aside, he was safe at Hogwarts. Sitting with his two best friends, sipping his firewhiskey, James was content. After his drink was gone and the bill settled, James stood. "Shall we go, gentlemen? Our shopping awaits."

"Where were you planning to go?" Remus asked.

"I've got to stop by Honeydukes and Zonko's. I've been meaning to send Harry a care package."

"What are you planning to get him at Zonko's?" Sirius asked. "You know Filch has banned most of their products. I'm sure you, responsible parent that you are, would never send the Pronglet a banned product."

"Of course I wouldn't send him a banned product. I was planning on sending him several," James said with a wink. "Especially dungbombs. Every Hogwarts student needs a full supply of those."

"Truer words were never spoken. But if he sets one off in my Astronomy tower, I'm going to hunt you down and turn you into a gold fish."

"A gold fish?" Remus asked. "Sirius, you're losing your touch."

"It was the best I could come up with on short notice."

Laughing, the friends left the Three Broomsticks and made their way to Zonko's to buy Harry every banned product the store would sell them. Nothing, not even Severus Snape, could have dampened their spirits as they stepped out into the crisp Autumn air.


	4. Duels and Dungbombs

_Author's Note: thanks everyone for the marvelous reviews. I have really appreciated them. I've only just discovered that I can reply to them, so I'm going to try to do better about that in the future. Hope you like this next installment. Cheers!  
_

* * *

Harry Potter was huffing angrily as he made his way to the Gryffindor common room. The day had started out well enough. He won Gryffindor five points in Astronomy, then lost ten in Potions, then gained five again in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Breaking even on a day that included potions was always a victory in Harry's mind. Snape had been particularly brutal to him lately and he wasn't quite sure why. "Greasy git", Harry thought to himself as he walked. It was after Defense Against the Dark Arts that the event that now had him fuming had occurred. It was all Malfoy's fault, really. He was the one who started the duel, but when Filch broke it up, only Harry was punished - with detention and the loss of twenty house points. It wasn't fair, Harry thought. Somehow Malfoy always managed to get off by mentioning his father. For a brief moment, Harry wished his own father would get him out of punishment, but it never happened. Actually, his father often seemed intent on getting Harry into more trouble. Harry was now making his way to his common room and the stash of dungbombs he had hidden under his bed. A couple of weeks ago, his father had sent him a care package full of candy and jokes - most of which had been expressly banned - and, much to Harry's joy, a rather large supply of dungbombs. Harry had immediately put his loot to good use, even sharing some with Fred and George, who put it to even better use. A well-placed dungbomb outside of Filch's office would make Harry feel better about the undeserved punishment. Then maybe he'd sneak up to the Astronomy tower and set off another one there, just for Sirius's benefit. Harry smiled thinking of Sirius's reaction. He always pretended to bluster and scold whenever Harry pranked him, but Harry knew he wasn't angry. Harry had learned as a very young child that he could get away with just about anything with Sirius so long as it was funny.

After he retrieved his dungbombs, he quickly made his way to the dungeons and Filch's office. He lobbed a dungbomb toward the door and took off before it could explode and fill the corridor with stench. It was as he was making his way up to the Astronomy tower and feeling very accomplished with himself that he heard the voice. "Come, let me rip you, let me tear you, let me kill you." Harry turned and looked behind him to see who was speaking, but no one else seemed to have noticed that anything was amiss. He heard the voice again and searched the faces of the other students. It was obvious no one else had heard it. Harry's stomach clenched into knots. Hearing voices was never a good thing. When he heard it the third time, he decided to investigate. Taking off at a full run, he followed the voice up the stairs and into a rarely-used corridor. The voice seemed to be coming from inside the walls. Maybe it was a ghost playing a prank on him? Ghosts didn't normally pull pranks with the exception of Peeves, and his style was much more overt than this. Harry was considering all of this when he slipped in a puddle outside a girl's bathroom. His feet flew out from under him and he hit the floor hard, banging the back of his head on the stone. Dazed, he lay still for a moment before struggling to get up. His back was soaked through and he could already feel the tingling of a bump forming on the back of his head. The voice had stopped. Harry sighed and turned, then gasped as he saw the wall across from him. Mrs. Norris, Filch's wretched cat, was hanging from the wall dead and beside her, in what looked frighteningly like blood, someone had written, "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware!"

Harry barely had time to register what he had seen when Filch appeared. Everything seemed to happen very fast then. The cry that came out of Filch when he saw his cat was horrifying. It was also loud. In no time a crowd had gathered - a crowd that included Albus Dumbledore and, Harry was relieved to see, Sirius. Sirius quickly made his way over to Harry and stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder. "All right, Harry?" he asked quietly.

Filch continued to shout. "You killed my cat!" he screamed, pointing at Harry.

"I didn't," Harry protested. "I only found her that way."

"Harry didn't kill your cat, Argus," Sirius cut in.

It was then that Filch spotted the dungbomb still in Harry's hand. "And he set dungbombs off outside my office!" Harry sighed. Only Filch would notice a student carrying a dungbomb at a time like this.

"Mrs. Norris isn't dead," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry never was sure how he managed to put so much power into his soft-spoken voice. Harry was sure that Dumbledore could stand in the Great Hall in the middle of dinner and whisper and the whole hall would hear him and quiet down. "She is merely petrified."

"He petrified my cat! He was angry at me because I gave him detention and he attacked my cat." Filch yelled, still pointing at Harry.

"Has a bit of a one-track mind, doesn't he?" Harry heard Sirius whisper somewhere above him.

"No second year could have done this," Dumbledore replied. "This is very advanced dark magic. However, I think we can put her right again. Pomona was acquired some mandrakes. As soon as they are mature, we can cure Mrs. Norris." Then Dumbledore turned to Harry, "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Harry?"

Harry thought for a moment. There was plenty he would like to tell, starting with the renegade house elf that had come to him over the summer to warn him not to go back to Hogwarts and finishing with the disembodied voice he had heard. He also had a pounding headache from where he had fallen and would have loved to have someone fix it for him. "No, sir," Harry heard come out of his mouth. He would have to take care of things himself. Everyone would think he was mental if they knew he was hearing voices.

"Very well. Argus, let's have a cup of tea." Filch left with Dumbledore, glaring at Harry until he was around the corner.

Now that the action was over, the crowd quickly moved on, leaving only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Sirius in the corridor. Sirius stared at the sprawled message as though trying to make sense of it all. Harry would have liked very much to go have a lie down, but Sirius was still gripping his shoulder. Finally, he decided to speak up. "Sirius,"

"Hmmm," Sirius answered absently, still studying the wall.

"I hit my head pretty hard when I fell. Can you do anything?"

"Sure that's fine," Sirius responded.

"Sirius," Harry said more loudly.

Sirius jerked as though startled. "Harry, you're still here?" He asked.

"You're holding onto me." Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, so I am," Sirius let go of Harry's shoulder. "All right there?"

"Actually I fell in the puddle and hit my head. Can you fix it for me?"

Sirius took a look and Harry felt the pain lessen as Sirius muttered a quick incantation.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully.

"Harry, I'd like a word in my quarters, please. Ron and Hermione, will you excuse us?"

Harry's friends nodded as Sirius put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and steered him through the corridors toward the Astronomy tower. Harry's mind worked furiously as they walked. Was he in trouble? What could he possibly be in trouble for? Surely Sirius wouldn't be mad at him for setting off dungbombs. Harry let the remaining dungbomb drop out of his hand just in case. When they arrived in Sirius's quarters, Sirius bade him to sit. Apprehensively, Harry obeyed. "Would you like some tea?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, please," Harry said, eying Sirius carefully, searching for any sign of anger. Outside of occasionally calling him down in class, Sirius had never once punished him. "Am I in trouble?" Harry finally asked when he had worked up his courage.

"What?" Sirius asked, "No, of course not. Should you be?"

Harry shook his head.

"What were you doing outside a girl's bathroom in an empty corridor?"

Harry began to work his mind furiously to come up with a plausible explanation. He was thankful when he heard the tea kettle whistle. That would give him more time. The corridor wasn't on the way to anywhere. He very much doubted that Sirius would believe he had gotten lost. Finally, he decided on half of the truth. When Sirius returned with two steaming cups of tea, Harry looked him in the eye. "I was just taking a walk. I had a bad day."

"What happened?" Sirius asked, his face suddenly concerned. Harry told him the story of his day, about how Snape was unfair and how Malfoy had provoked him and how Filch had given him detention. He even confessed to setting off the dungbomb outside of Filch's office. Sirius listened intently, offering neither judgment nor advice, until Harry had finished his story.

"That is a bad day," he said sympathetically. "And then you go and stumble across something like that."

Harry sipped his tea to give his hands and face something to do. He had never been a particularly good liar, and he felt a little guilty betraying Sirius's trust like this, but now that he had made the decision not to tell about the voice, he felt oddly protective of the knowledge. There was something a little exciting in keeping a secret.

"How do you always manage to find so much trouble?" Sirius asked, reaching over to muss Harry's hair.

"It usually finds me," Harry replied. "I swear I don't go looking for it."

Sirius regarded him gravely. "Sometimes I wish I really could turn you into a dormouse. At least then I'd know you were safe."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, so he said nothing.

"I don't know what's happening, Pronglet. Most likely, this is just someone's sick idea of a joke, but I don't like it. I want you to promise me you won't go wandering off by yourself any more."

Harry sighed. "I'm not a child, Sirius," he said.

"I know that. You'll be a man before you know it. You'll be a good man, like your father." Harry beamed with pride at these words. To be like his father was what he wanted more than anything in the world. "But no matter how big or old you get, you'll always be my godson, and I'll always worry about you and try to keep you safe. So promise me you won't go wandering."

"I promise," Harry said. Then, "What did it mean 'the Chamber of Secrets is open'? What's the Chamber of Secrets?"

"It's an old Hogwarts legend. Salazar Slytherin was one of those pure-blood loonies. The founders had a row about it actually. Slytherin only wanted to let in pureblood witches and wizards. The others voted him down, so he got his knickers in a twist and left the school. Story was that before he left, he built a secret chamber somewhere in the school and filled it with a monster that would do his bidding. When the time was right, he would unleash the monster and purify Hogwarts. It's nonsense if you ask me. If there was a secret chamber anywhere in this school, the marauders would have found it. Supposedly it was opened a while back and a few students were attacked. They caught the bloke who did it, though, and chucked him into prison."

"Who was it?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't much matter. It's all only a legend anyway. Listen, Pronglet, I know Dumbledore already asked you this, but _did_ you see anything?"

Harry shook his head.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Harry shook his head again, forcing himself to meet Sirius's gaze.

"All right. You can go but, Harry, don't forget that I'm here to help you if you need it."

"I know Sirius," Harry said, slipping off the chair. "Thanks. See you later."

"Later, Pronglet." Sirius replied. As soon as Harry was out the door, he went to the fireplace and took out some floo powder. "73 Rosewood Lane," he told the fireplace before stepping into the flames. He emerged in the familiar living room to find James reading the paper.

"Padfoot," James said happily, putting aside the paper and rising. "To what do I owe this pleasure? Come to challenge me to wizard's chess?"

"This visit is all business, I'm afraid." Sirius replied. Sirius told James everything that had happened that day, conveniently leaving out the details about Harry's duel and the dungbombs. James didn't need to know everything Harry was up to, after all.

"So what do you think it means?" James asked.

"I don't think it means anything. I think it's someone playing a sick joke."

"Do you think Hogwarts is still safe?"

"Oh yes. It can't be long before we get to the bottom of this. I just wanted you to hear it from me before you read it in the papers."

James nodded. "Thanks. And you're sure Harry's all right?"

"He's fine," Sirius assured his friend. "But I think he's keeping something from me."

"What makes you think that?" James asked.

"He's a terrible liar." Sirius said, raising an eyebrow, "just like his old dad".

"I'm not that bad!" James protested.

"Not that bad!" Sirius said, his mouth twisting into a smile. "You couldn't lie your way out of a tight spot if your life depended on it! Remember the time we stole that bottle of mead from Slughorn? You were practically banging down his door to confess!"

"Nothing came of it! He forgave us."

"Only because Peter started blubbing when he threatened to write to our parents."

James gave a small jerk at Peter's name. Sirius's smile quickly faded. They hardly ever spoke of the fourth marauder. "Peter," James whispered as his face darkened.

"Cheer up, Prongs!" Sirius said exuberantly. "Or I'll be forced to get you drunk."

"I've got firewhiskey in the kitchen," James offered, his smile returning. "Not that I think you'll actually manage to get me drunk. You're the one who can't hold his liquor. You seem to keep forgetting that the only reason Slughorn asked us about the mead in the first place was that you got it in your drunken head to serenade him in the middle of the Great Hall."

"How in the world did we never get chucked out?" Sirius asked as he disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing moments later with the bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses.

"I think it was our charm." James said. "And our dashing good looks. We were far too beautiful to chuck out."

Sirius poured a glass and handed it to James, then poured one for himself. "One drink and one game of wizard's chess, and then I have to get back." Sirius said, knowing even as he said it that it wouldn't happen that way. One game of wizard's chess always led to a tournament when James and Sirius were involved. "Should we get Remus over here?"

"The full moon was yesterday. He'll be recovering." James said, lifting his glass. "Cheers, Padfoot."

"Cheers," Sirius repeated, reaching for the wizard's chess board.

"So what do you think Harry's hiding?" James asked after he had taken a sip of the firewhiskey.

"I don't know," Sirius stated. "But I intend to find out."


	5. Explosions and Explanations

"I have to tell you something," Harry told Ron and Hermione when he arrived in the common room. He told them everything that had happened to him in the corridor, including the voice he had heard in the walls. For some reason, he wasn't worried about them thinking he was mental.

"That's a bit creepy, mate," Ron said when he had finished the story.

"What do you think it means?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in concentration. Nothing seemed to intrigue her more than an unanswered question.

"I don't know. But hearing voices no one else can hear can't be good," Harry responded. "You don't think I'm going mental, do you?"

"Weren't you already mental?" Ron asked.

"Very funny," Harry replied.

"You don't seem mental." Hermione said with an air of finality. "So there has to be some logical explanation."

"What is the Chamber of Secrets anyway?" Ron asked. Harry repeated the story as Sirius had told it to him. "Sirius thinks it's all nonsense," Harry finished, as though that settled the matter.

"Malfoy knows about the Chamber of Secrets," Ron said suddenly. I saw him in the corridor. He looked like Christmas had come early. I heard him telling Crabbe and Goyle that the mudbloods would be next."

"What is a mudblood?" Hermione asked. "Malfoy called me that in potions today."

"Malfoy called you that?" Ron shouted, leaping to his feet. "I'm going to punch him in his head."

"Sit down, Ronald." Hermione scolded. "I don't care. I don't even know what it means."

"It's a really foul name for someone who's muggle-born," Harry explained. "It means you have dirty blood. It's the worst thing you can call someone. Some people think pure-bloods are better than half-bloods and muggle-borns. It's all rubbish, though. Some of the best witches and wizards are muggle-born, and a lot of the pure-blood families have interbred so much they're all loonies."

"So do you think Malfoy's the one doing it?" Ron asked.

"I think it's possible." Harry suggested. "He's certainly foul enough and he's definitely caught up in blood purity. I wish there was a way we could know."

"Wouldn't it be great if there was a way we could ask him about it without him knowing it was us?" Ron said.

"I've just had an idea," Hermione said, leaping to her feet. "I have to go to the library."

"Of course you do," Harry commented, "what else would you do with an idea besides research it to death?"

Hermione glared at him, "If you ever get an idea, you can do what you like with it. This is my idea and I'm taking it to the library."

"She is without a doubt the strangest person I've ever met," Ron said after she had run out of the common room.

"Agreed," Harry stated.

They did not see Hermione again until dinnertime when she appeared flushed with excitement. "Polyjuice potion," she told them.

"Come again?" Harry said.

"Polyjuice potion. If you brew it right, you can add a piece of another person and take on their appearance. We can become Slytherins and ask Malfoy about the heir!"

"Wait, you mean we'd have to drink Crabbe's tonails? No bloody way!" Ron exclaimed.

"That's brilliant," Harry enthused, ignoring Ron's protests and feigned retching.

"I'll have to get into the restricted section to find the instructions, but I think I can manage it."

"Do you want me to ask Sirius?" Harry asked her.

"No, Sirius will ask questions. I've got an easier target in mind."

Who that easier target was became clear the next day when Hermione appeared at dinner with a signed letter from Professor Lockhart.

"He's a bit thick, inne?" Ron asked through a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

"He most certainly is not, Ronald!" Hermione protested. "He's very excited about my research." Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Harry elbowed him and Ron thought better of it. Hermione had opened the book and was reading, her eyes scanning the pages quickly. "This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen. Boomslang skin. Lacewing flies. We'll have to get some of these things from Professor Snape's private stores, and it's got to brew for a month."

"You want us to steal from Snape? Are you mad?" Ron asked, this time his mouth full of roast beef.

"No, I want you to make a diversion. I'll do the actual stealing."

"Where are you planning to brew this potion, Hermione?" Harry asked skeptically.

"I was thinking of using Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hardly anyone ever goes in there. Why would they? It's awfully hard to do your business with Myrtle bawling at you."

"Where is that?" Ron asked, his mouth full of Yorkshire pudding.

"Honestly, Ronald. Did it never occur to you to swallow before you speak?" Hermione asked with dusgust.

"Why?" Ron responded, his mouth full of green beans.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, but Harry just shrugged. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is the one next to the message where Harry fell yesterday. It's almost always flooded because Myrtle throws fits in there and overflows the toilets."

"Who's Myrtle?" Ron asked, his mouth full of treacle tart.

"She's a ghost, a very, very unhappy one. But don't worry, she won't tell anyone what we're up to."

The next day found them in Myrtle's bathroom setting up their potion. Hermione set the cauldron on a toilet and explained that it would be safe. Myrtle leaned over their shoulder asking questions and scolding the boys for being in a girl's bathroom. They ignored her, trying to think up a suitable distraction for Snape. It was Harry who came up with the idea: he would fling a dungbomb into Malfoy's potion and in the ensuing chaos, Hermione would sneak into Snape's stores, get everything she needed and come back. Ron would be responsible for stealing from the student stores. It was a risky plan, and none of them were completely satisfied with it, but it was the best they had so they decided to go ahead with it. If it didn't work, they feared they might spend the rest of their lives in detention, but they were willing to take the chance. Catching Malfoy was more important than their freedom.

After Astonomy the next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione practically ran out of the class to make sure everything was ready for their plan. Harry had packed a few dungbombs into his satchel just in case the first one missed, while Hermione had emptied her satchel almost completely, giving her extra books to Ron and Harry. Harry watched Snape carefully to make sure his back was turned before flinging a dungbomb into Malfoy's cauldron. It landed with a small plop and Malfoy looked around to see where it had come from. Harry forced himself to look very engrossed in his own potion, which was starting to congeal and turn a smelly bluish-gray. He'd been so distracted he had forgotten to stir. Just then Malfoy's cauldron hissed and exploded with a cloud of stinky fog and Harry felt Ron and Hermione both slip off the bench. He lifted his robes and held them in front of his nose and heard, rather than saw, Snape's reaction. By the time the smoke had cleared, Snape was livid, Malfoy's face was red with shame, and Ron and Hermione were both safely back on the bench next to Harry looking as though they had no idea what was happening. Harry felt as though he couldn't contain his happiness while Snape berated Malfoy, but his happiness quickly disappeared when Snape rounded on him. "What are you smirking at, Potter?" Snape snapped.

"Nothing, sir," Harry answered quickly, rearranging his features into what he hoped was an innocent expression. Snape looked in his cauldron. A quick look around told Harry that all the potions the class had been working on were destroyed; Harry's looked no worse than anyone else's and considerably better than some. Nevertheless, Snape had eyes only for Harry.

"Tut, tut," Snape said, "You've mangled your potion." Snape waved his wand and the contents of Harry's cauldron disappeared. "No marks for the day, then."

"But that's not fair!" Harry protested. "Everyone's potion got messed up. We couldn't see what we were doing in all this mess!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, and you will join me tomorrow night in detention."

Harry glared at him. "If I've already got a zero for the day, can I go then?" Harry asked.

"No, and you can join me for a second detention Saturday morning. Some people might find your cheek entertaining, but I can assure you that I do not."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione caught his eye and shook her head, so he bit back his retort.

"Good, I see you are learning some manners. How unexpected." Snape said with a final glare before returning to the front of the room and beginning a lecture on the potion that the entire class had just destroyed. It was clear as he lectured that he thought an explosion and temporary blindness an inadequate excuse for making a brewing mistake.

"That greasy git," Harry said as soon as they were away from the potions classroom. "Everyone's potion was bad. Why am I the only one who got no marks? And detention!"

"You sort of asked for the detention, Harry," Hermione said quietly.

"Whose side are you on?" Harry bellowed.

"Yours, if course, only you do goad him sometimes."

"He goads me, too," Harry said lamely, knowing even as he heard the words coming out of his mouth that it was no excuse. His father was constantly telling him to treat all his professors with respect, even Snape. Easy for his dad to say, he didn't have to brew potions with Snape breathing down his neck.

"Come on," Ron told them, "We have to get to Defense."

"I'm skiving. I don't think I can take Lockhart today." Harry informed his friends.

"Oh no you're not!" Hermione said, then she took his hand and pulled him reluctantly to class.


	6. Belligerent Bludgers

The following Saturday afternoon was the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The Gryffindor team had been appalled to learn that Draco Malfoy had bought his way onto the Slytherin team with a Nimbus 2001 for each team member. Draco, like Harry, would be Seeker, and he could be heard all over the castle boasting about the new broomsticks and his own aerial exploits, which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping muggles in helicopters. By Friday, Harry was so nervous he had gone off meals. The morning of the match he woke up after having barely slept and walked in a bundle of anxiety to the Great Hall, where he sat with the other Gryffindor players. They all looked as uneasy as he did. Harry jumped when Colin Creevey came up behind him and snapped his picture. "Would you stop that?" he snapped. Colin's face fell, so Harry apologized and invited him to join the team. "I'm sorry. I'm just nervous about the match today," he told the excitable first year. Colin had taken an immediate liking to Harry or, more likely, Harry's fame. He was constantly following Harry around, taking pictures. Harry found him annoying but couldn't seem to get rid of him. After breakfast, Harry made his way to the dungeon for his detention with Snape. He hoped it would take his mind off his worries, but not even Snape's glowering or the endless scrubbing of congealed potions out of cauldrons could do that. It seemed like no time at all had passed before Harry was making his way down to the Quidditch pitch.

"All right men," Oliver Wood began,

"And women," Katie Bell put in.

"And women" Wood corrected. "Slytherin may have better brooms, but we have better players, so get out there and give it your all! Harry, don't worry about Malfoy, just do what you do best and find that snitch or die trying." Then, as an afterthought, he added in an undertone to Harry, "Faster would be better."

The team huddled up to discuss strategy and then the whistle sounded that called them out onto the pitch. Harry looked up into the roaring crowd and hoped he wouldn't sick up. His dad was somewhere up there, as were Sirius and Remus. They never missed a game. He scanned the crowd quickly to see if he could spot them, but he couldn't. As he mounted his broom and kicked off the ground, he felt his fears slip away. Flying came so naturally to him that he was sure he was born for it. Maybe he'd play Quidditch professionally when he grew up. His normal strategy was to fly high up out of the way and circle the stadium looking for the snitch. He quickly rose higher and higher, feeling his heart soar as he did so. When he was flying, he didn't care about strange voices or detentions or secret monsters. Flying was freedom to him. The game had barely begun when Harry had to dodge his first bludger, hit at him by Marcus Flynn, the Slytherin captain. It was an easy dodge for him, but then it circled back around and flew at Harry again and again and again. Soon, Harry was so busy dodging the bludger that he couldn't search for the snitch at all. Fred and George took up posts on either side of him and circled him, knocking the bludger back every time it attacked. Harry was relieved when Wood called for time-out. No one had any explanation for the rogue bludger. Madame Hooch insisted that she had had the balls locked up in her office and no one could have tampered with them. Harry told Fred and George to go back to beating with the behaving bludger, assuring them that he could fend for himself. No sooner had the game resumed than the bludger was back. Harry streaked around the stadium, trying every trick he could to evade the bludger, but it was on his trail no matter how many circles or loops he made. He tried to scan for the snitch as best he could, but it wasn't much use. Malfoy, meanwhile, had also stopped looking for the snitch and was instead laughing at Harry. Harry watched him, thinking about all the hexes he would like to throw Malfoy's way, when suddenly he noticed a small glimmer of gold near Malfoy's shoulder. The snitch! Everyone grew silent as he dived. Malfoy's face changed as he started looking around for the snitch as well. He was much closer; if he saw it too quickly Harry would never get there in time. The snitch flittered away toward the ground as Harry raced toward it, the possessed bludger close on his heels. He was nearly to the ground when he caught the snitch and, as he pulled out of the dive, he felt the bludger come in contact with his arm. There was a sickening crack and Harry felt his arm go limp. He fell sideways off his broom and lay on the ground in considerable pain. Lockhart was the first on the scene. "Don't touch me! Leave me alone!" Harry said.

"Oh, dear, he must have hit his head," Lockhart said. "Don't worry, I can put you right,"

"No, don't!" Harry shouted, but it was too late. As Lockhart waved his wand, Harry felt his arm deflate. He looked down at it and saw that it resembled nothing so much as a flesh-colored glove.

"What have you done to him?" James asked angrily, arriving at Harry's side. Harry had told him all about Lockhart's ineptitude and James was not the least bit amused by it, especially not when it caused Harry to get hurt. James had no sense of humor whatsoever where Harry's safety was concerned.

"I fixed Harry's broken arm, of course." Lockhart said with an affronted air. "It's not broken anymore, is it? No, it isn't."

Sirius picked up one of Harry's deflated fingers and lifted it high into the air, dropping it back onto the ground, where it landed with a weak thump. "All the bones are gone," Sirius said.

"Can you put them back?" Harry asked, the slightest whine in his voice. He needed bones in his arm.

"Madame Pomfrey can." James told him, putting a hand under his back to help him rise. "Come on now, up you get."

Leaning heavily on his good arm, Harry rose and discovered that he was unhurt with the exception of the lifeless arm dangling at his side. As soon as he stood, Colin was there with his camera snapping pictures. "Get that thing out of my face!" Harry bellowed. Then he turned away from Colin's crestfallen expression and trudged up to the castle with James and Sirius.

Madame Pomfrey clucked and fretted when Harry appeared in the hospital wing. "A broken arm I could mend easily, but regrowing bones is another story." She scolded, as though she thought Harry had somehow chosen to de-bone his own arm. Harry looked at James for support, but saw that he appeared to be holding back a smile.

"_How could he possibly find this funny?_" Harry wondered.

"You're in for a very long night, I'm afraid," Madame Pomfrey continued. "Get into bed." Harry climbed obediently into the bed as Madame Pomfrey bustled off, returning with a sleeping potion and a bottle of something called skele-grow. After Harry had been dosed, she gave James and Sirius a stern look. "You two should go. He needs to rest."

"But I'm his father," James protested.

"And I'm his godfather," Sirius added.

"It's fine. They can stay," Harry spoke up.

Madame Pomfrey turned her stern look on him, and he quailed beneath it. In the end, she agreed to let them stay just until the sleeping potion took effect. Sirius perched on the bed by Harry's feet. James sat next to him in a chair, holding his good hand.

"What do you reckon was up with that bludger?" Harry asked sleepily. Neither James nor Sirius had any ideas, or if they did they weren't sharing them, and Harry was too sleepy to push the issue. After he was asleep, James removed his glasses, kissed his forehead, and tucked him in. Then he turned to Sirius.

"What _do_ you reckon was up with that bludger?"

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe it was just one of those things," he offered.

"I doubt it. Come on, let's get out of here before Madame Pomfrey comes and chases us out."

"Would you care to come to the Astronomy tower and have a cup of tea with me?" Sirius asked as they exited the hospital wing.

"You have no idea how much," James responded. They made their way to the Astronomy tower in silence. Sirius was thoughtful and James distracted. Once they were settled and the tea was brewing, Sirius brought out the wizard's chess.

"Harry will be fine," Sirius said to James. "You worry like an old woman,"

"I can't help it," James said. "Someone had to have bewitched that bludger. Why else would it have gone after him like that?"

"It was probably a Slytherin prank. Madame Hooch will ferret it out. She takes her quidditch very seriously."

"You're probably right, yet I can't quite shake the feeling that something's not right. All of a sudden, I feel that Harry isn't safe here."

"Hogwarts is the safest place for him" Sirius countered. "Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard alive. I'm sure he has everything under control, and if he doesn't, he will very soon. It's your turn"

James looked at the board and made a very bad move. He couldn't concentrate on the game when he was so worried about Harry. He could already tell that this would be one of those sleepless nights when he would stay up late worrying about all the dark forces he knew were out to get his son. He was thankful to have Sirius; he knew from experience that Sirius would stay up with him, all night if it came to that.

Sirius watched James, aware of his friend's anxiety. Sirius was worried, too. After all, bludgers usually didn't just attack one person. They much preferred to whip around and unseat as many people as possible. He had faith in Madame Hooch and Dumbledore to find out what had gone awry, but he would have preferred answers sooner rather than later. He sometimes couldn't believe just how much he loved Harry. He couldn't imagine loving him more if he were his own son, so the thought of someone attacking him caused Sirius considerable distress. Then there was whatever it was that Harry was hiding. Harry had gotten slippery lately, ducking out of class before Sirius could say two words to him. He hadn't had a proper conversation with the boy since the day Mrs. Norris was attacked. It wasn't like Harry to separate himself from Sirius. It only strengthened Sirius's resolve to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with him. In the meantime, James needed cheering up and badly. For now, that would have to be his only goal. He quickly tried to think of the funniest prank they had ever played.

"Hey, Prongs, you remember that time we put a niffler in McGonagall's office?"

James rose to the occasion quickly. "I don't think I've ever seen her so mad. Her nostrils flared so much I don't think they've ever gone back! I half expected her to start breathing fire."

"I think you and I are responsible for at least half her gray hairs. I think she secretly wished we were in another house every time she had to take points from us."

"Do you ever think about confessing all the things we used to get into now that you're on staff here?"

"Not on your life, mate." Sirius said with a laugh. "I'm still scared of McGonagall. She could probably end my very existence if she wanted to."

"I wouldn't mind seeing that. Maybe you could make some galleons, sell tickets to all our old classmates. They'd turn out in droves."

"Fine by me, but I'm going to start by telling her that you put the niffler in her office alone."

"Now that's just cold." James was laughing, and Sirius knew the darkest part was past.

* * *

When Harry awoke, he felt a strange weight on his feet. His arm tingled painfully and was very stiff, but the bones seemed to have returned.

"I warned Harry Potter not to return to Hogwarts," came a squeaky voice from near Harry's feet.

"Dobby?" Harry asked. This was the deranged house elf that had visited him over the summer and caused him no end of grief. The house elf first appeared to him when he and his dad were visiting his mother's family in Surrey.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts. Harry Potter is in grave danger." the house elf had told him before introducing himself as Dobby. Harry had dismissed the warning and Dobby had run out of the bedroom with Harry on his heels. Dobby ran into his cousin's room, where Harry was not supposed to go without permission, and smashed Dudley's telly. His Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia immediately blamed Harry, and even James was skeptical when Harry told him what had really happened. Having James not believe him had really stung, and still did if Harry let himself think about it, but in the end James let it go and bought Dudley a better telly to make up for Harry having smashed his first one. As they shopped, James had scolded and Harry had stuck to his story about a house elf called Dobby.

"I just find it difficult to believe that a house elf would run away from his master just to come visit you at your muggle aunt and uncle's house and then smash your cousin's toy. It's not in their nature to act like that."

"Maybe his master told him to!" Harry had shouted in the middle of the store.

"Don't shout at me." James had snapped through gritted teeth, his voice dangerously quiet. "You are very close to getting yourself into more trouble that you want."

"Fine," Harry had said. "See if I care,"

They had stood glaring at one another in the middle of the store until a timid-looking muggle salesclerk came up to them.

"Excuse me?" The salesclerk had asked.

"What?" they both snapped in unison, causing the salesclerk to jump.

"Do you need any assistance?" the timid salesclerk asked. Seeing his out, Harry had answered her.

"We're looking for a new telly."

In her element, the unfortunate salesclerk had brightened and ended up joking with James and Harry about how there was nothing worth watching on the television anyway. Joking had brightened both James's and Harry's mood, but they were still stiff around one another for the rest of the visit to Surrey and for a few days after. It was Remus who finally convinced them to reconcile by suggesting to James that he give Harry the benefit of the doubt, pointing out that Harry was normally a very truthful child, and then suggesting to Harry that he try to see it from his father's point of view. Things had gone back to normal between them very quickly after that.

And now here, on his bed, was the selfsame house elf. "What do you want, Dobby?" Harry asked the elf.

"Oh, Harry Potter has called Dobby by his name! Harry Potter is a great wizard!"

"What else would I call you?" Harry asked. "You know you almost got me into trouble back in the summer. My dad thought I was lying to him when I told him you smashed the telly."

"Harry Potter had to know not to come back to Hogwarts. Dobby tried to keep Harry Potter away. Dobby even closed up the platform so Harry Potter couldn't get on the train."

"You did that?" Harry asked, his voice rising. "I got a spanking because of that!"

Hearing that, Dobby got up and started banging his head against the floor. "Oh, Dobby is a bad elf! Dobby gets Harry Potter into trouble!"

Harry grabbed him with his good arm. "Dobby, stop, you'll wake up the whole castle. It's all right. I'm not mad at you. It was my own fault I got spanked. You don't need to feel bad."

"Harry Potter is a great wizard!" Dobby repeated excitedly. "Dobby works for very dark wizards," Dobby whispered before shutting his hand in the drawer of Harry's nightstand.

"Dobby, stop it. I order you to stop punishing yourself."

Dobby looked at Harry and his eyes filled with tears. "Harry Potter is so selfless, he forgives Dobby when Dobby gets him into trouble and when Dobby bewitches a bludger."

"You bewitched the bludger?" Harry asked, quickly grabbing Dobby to stop him from running into the wall.

"Why did you do all this?" Harry asked.

"Harry Potter must leave Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened."

"What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked quickly.

"Dobby cannot say. Dobby's masters have ordered him not to say." Dobby whispered, pinching himself.

"Stop that!" Harry said, and Dobby obeyed.

"Who are your masters?" Harry asked. Dobby looked very much as though he would like to answer, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, footsteps echoed across the floor and Dobby disappeared with a pop. Harry quickly lay back down in the bed and pretended to be asleep. He risked opening one eye in the dark. He watched as Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall loped in with an odd figure between them. They placed the figure in the bed next to Harry. Harry saw then what it was: Colin Creevey, petrified, his camera still in front of his face.

"Another attack, Albus. Did he manage to get a picture of it?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I have no doubt that he did, but the film in his camera was melted." Professor Dumbledore said gravely.

"What does this mean?"

"What it means is that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

"Oh, Albus," McGonagall said, her fear evident in her voice. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head sadly, "I just don't know."


	7. Potions and Parseltongues

The next morning, Harry rushed out of the Hospital Wing to tell Ron and Hermione what had happened during the night. He was sure this new attack, having occured while he was in hospital, would quash the nasty rumors floating around that he was Slytherin's heir. Instead, people seemed only to remember that Harry had shouted at Colin on the quidditch pitch just before Colin was attacked. The accusations only strengthened Harry, Ron, and Hermione's resolve to finish the polyjuice potion and clear Harry's name.

As Autumn turned to Winter, snows fell at Hogwarts and Harry put a few new spells his father had taught him to good use, bewitching snowballs to fly at the classroom windows and spell out naughty words as they splatted and making a snowman that looked precisely like a very dim-witted Snape. He even bewitched a few snowballs to follow Draco Malfoy around the castle and pelt him in the face whenever he came out of class. The other students took to giving Malfoy a very wide berth.

Sirius invited Harry to come and have dinner with him several times and, each time, questioned him carefully about his doings in the castle. Harry confessed to the pranks, which Sirius thought very funny even when it was his own Astronomy classes being disturbed by snowballs spelling "fart" on the windows, but he would not tell Sirius about the potion or the voice. He was starting to think maybe he'd imagined the voice. After all, he'd only heard it the once and that was over a month ago.

Around the school, the new attack had everyone in a panic. Protective charms and phony potions popped up for sale by the older students. Neville Longbottom bought them all, convinced that he would be attacked for being "as good as a squib" as he put it. Ginny Weasley seemed beside herself with worry, sitting by her brothers as they played exploding snap and squeaking at loud noises. The attacks had taken their toll on everyone.

Finally, the day came that the potion was done. Hermione concocted a plan to put a sleeping potion in some cauldron cakes and leave them for Malfoy's three friends Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode to find. After they were asleep, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would hide them in a broom cupboard and take a strand of their hair to finish off the potion. Harry felt uneasy about the plan, sure that there were too many loose ends. "Why would they just eat something they found lying about?" Harry asked in an undertone.

"They're Slytherins, mate. They're sure to be thick as posts." Ron assured him. Against his better judgment, Harry went along and was surprised when the Slytherins actually did go for the cakes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly pulled the Slytherins into the broom closet. Harry had to help Hermione as Millicent was quite a bit larger than Hermione, then Harry and Ron each took a hair from the heads of their victims. Hermione was lucky enough to find one on Millicent's robe. Hermione also had the presence of mind to steal the Slytherin's shoes.

"Their feet are bigger than ours," she offered by way of explanation.

"How do you manage to keep such a cool head all the time?" Ron asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I sure am glad you're on our side." Harry commented.

They made their way back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom carefully, not wanting to run into anyone who might ask them about the shoes. One they got to the bathroom, Hermione poured the potion and each added their hair. Harry's turned a sickly green while Ron's became a bluish gray that looked and smelled rather like troll bogeys. Hermione's turned a disgusting pink.

"Ugh, essence of Crabbe," Ron said, staring at his potion in disgust.

"Cheers," Harry said with a grimace. Then they each went into a separate stall to make their transformations in peace. After Harry drank his potion (whilst holding his nose), he felt hot and sweaty. His skin began to bubble as though it was melting, though there was no pain. He watched with horror as his fingers thickened and shortened and he shot up a few inches. When the transformation was complete, he put on Goyle's shoes and went out to meet Ron and Hermione. Ron emerged a moment later, looking exactly like Crabbe, even down to the bewildered look he was sporting. Hermione refused to come out no matter how much they begged her.

"Come on, Hermione. It can't be that bad. You should see us." Harry told her. "Ron looks a fright."

"You're not much better yourself," Ron replied easily.

"No, no, I won't." Hermione insisted. "You two will have to go alone. Hurry up. You don't have that much time."

Ron said something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Girls are mental," as they left the bathroom. As soon as they were outside, they realized the fatal flaw in their plan. Neither Harry nor Ron knew where the Slytherin common room was. "I think it's in the basement," Ron said. "That's where they always come from at breakfast."

In the Entrance Hall, Harry almost ran into Sirius. Forgetting himself for a moment, he waved and said hello warmly. Sirius regarded him with a strange look. "Can I help you with something?"

Harry was just about to ask him what he meant when Ron elbowed him hard in the ribs. Harry turned to say something to him and suddenly remembered when he saw not Ron but Crabbe standing next to him. Harry tried to rearrange his features into what he hoped was a sufficiently dense look and said, "No, just saying hello."

Sirius continued to stare at him with a strange look. "Shouldn't you be getting to your common room?" he finally asked.

"Erm, yes, yes, we should. Bye then," Harry said, heading toward the staircase. He turned when he heard Sirius clear his throat loudly.

"Isn't your common room that way?" he asked, pointing to a staircase at the opposite end of the entry hall.

"So it is," Harry said, ducking his head and hurrying past under Sirius's watchful gaze. He heard Sirius muttering under his breath as he passed but didn't catch anything except "stupider every year".

Ron and Harry still weren't sure where to find the common room, but they caught a break on the stairs when they ran into Draco Malfoy. "There you two are. I've been looking everywhere for you!" He said, flagging them down. They looked at one another and then followed him down the stairs. "Did you see that Granger mudblood in Astronomy today?" Malfoy asked. "I thought she was going to explode trying to get Black to call on her." Malfoy did an impression of Hermione jumping up and down to answer a question that even Harry had to admit was spot-on. Ron and Harry pretended to laugh. "I swear, I'll never understand how Black managed to get a job here. He's got to be the worst teacher in the school. My father says he bought his position with his dead parents' money and good name, which he is dragging through the mud of course. Do you believe how much he favors Harry Potter, Dumbledore's golden boy? Sirius comes from a proper family; he ought to know better than that. It just goes to show that even good families can have bad seeds." Harry felt his temper rise as Malfoy insulted Sirius. Honestly, he couldn't see how anyone could not like Sirius. Sirius was brilliant! He was about to say something to Malfoy when Ron caught his eye and shook his head significantly and Harry thought better of it. They followed Malfoy to a very ugly portrait of a sinister looking man with a black beard. "What's the password again?" Malfoy asked. "Oh, right, pure-blood." The portrait swung aside to reveal a round room decorated in green and silver. Harry had the distinct impression that they were under the lake. "You two are awfully quiet today." Malfoy said.

"We, erm, ate something that didn't agree with us," Ron said thickly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"I can't believe the Chamber of Secrets has been opened," Ron said pointedly.

"Yes, it's about time if you ask me," Malfoy said. "It's high time Hogwarts got rid of all the riff-raff. I wonder who the next victim will be. I hope it's Granger!"

Harry choked on his own tongue, fighting back his temper. "Do you know who's doing it?" He finally asked.

"You already know I don't. How many times do I have to tell you? I wish I did, though. I'd love to have a chance to help them." Malfoy replied.

Harry stole a glance at Ron and saw to his dismay that Ron's hair was turning red around the edges. He reached up to his own forehead and felt his familiar lightning-bolt shaped scar reappearing.

"I have to go. I think I'm going to be sick!" Harry said, holding his head and turning to leave the common room.

"I better go with him," Ron said. "He might need help." Together they took off running and no sooner were they out of the common room than they felt themselves starting to change back. Their shoes were suddenly floppy and Harry felt himself shrinking. When his vision began to blur, he pulled his glasses out of his robes and put them on. They flopped slowly up to Myrtle's bathroom to tell Hermione what they had learned. Hermione still refused to come out. "Come on, Hermione, you're back to normal now. It's fine. Just come out!" Ron said, exasperated.

Finally, they persuaded Hermione to open the door. "It was a cat hair!" she said, tears forming in her eyes. "The hair I got off Millicent's robe was from a cat. Polyjuice isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

Thinking fast, Harry pulled his invisibility cloak out of his satchel and threw it over Hermione. "Let's get you to the Hospital Wing," he said. "Madame Pomfrey will set you right, and she never asks questions." Reluctantly, Hermione agreed.

Hermione was out of class for a week and when she emerged, completely back to normal, notices had appeared on all the common room boards announcing that Professor Lockhart would be starting a dueling club to teach students self-defense. The whole castle was abuzz about it. Students could be found in clumps talking excitedly about it. When the night of the first meeting arrived, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned out, along with more than half the school. Lockhart was there as promised, and so was Snape.

When the time to start came around, Lockhart tried to get everyone's attention for a full ten minutes before Snape finally climbed onto a table and glared at the students. There was complete silence within seconds.

"Thank you," Lockhart said, "Now you all no doubt are aware of the horrible attacks that have happened. There's no need to be frightened while I'm here of course, but I thought you might like to know a few basic defensive spells, so my esteemed colleague and I decided to start this little club. Now, Professor Snape and I are going to show you how to duel. But don't be frightened! I won't hurt your dear potions master."

"I bet you won't," Harry said under his breath. Ron sniggered, but Hermione, who was still quite taken with Lockhart despite his obvious uselessness, glared at him.

Lockhart and Snape counted off, pacing away from each other and then turned suddenly. "EXPELLIARMUS!" Snape shouted. There was a loud bang and Lockhart flew into the air landing hard on his back. His wand flew obediently to Snape, who caught it with ease.

"Splendid!" Lockhart said, taking his wand back. "I let him show you that of course. I could have easily stopped him if I wanted to. So, let's break up into pairs and practice disarming. Disarm only!"

Ron and Harry immediately turned toward one another and began to pace off, but Snape appeared between them with that malicious twinkle in his eye that Harry had come to associate with his own imminent misfortune. "Time to break up the dream team, I think," he said softly. "Potter, you'll be with Malfoy." Harry was secretly glad for this new development. He had been hoping to get even with Malfoy for a week for the things he had said about Sirius and Hermione. Lockhart counted everyone off and then all was pandemonium. When the smoke cleared, Harry had hit Malfoy with a tickling curse, a jelly-legs jinx, and a bat-bogey hex. All around the Great Hall, students were fighting. Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were brawling openly, rolling around on the ground, their discarded wands forgotten. Lockhart tried in vain to call the students to order and finally Snape cleared his throat loudly and everyone immediately stopped, except for Malfoy who was still stumbling around on shaky legs, laughing maniacally, and trying to escape the bat bogeys. Snape quickly set him right with a lazy flick of his wand. "Perhaps we should have a student demonstration." Snape said, "Potter! Malfoy! Front and center!" Feeling anxiety bubble up in his gut, Harry followed Malfoy and Snape to the front of the room. Lockhart counted them off after another warning to disarm only. Harry had no intention of obeying and neither, he was sure, did Malfoy. Before they turned their backs on one another, Harry distinctly saw Snape whisper something in Malfoy's ear. His gut clenched tighter. Why did these things always happen to him?

After Lockhart finished counting them off, Harry turned quickly, but he was not quick enough. Malfoy was a split second ahead of him with an incantation that caused a very large and very angry black snake to come out of his wand and race toward Harry. Lockhart was there in a flash, pointing his wand at the snake. There was a flash of light and the snake flew through the air, landing, enraged, in front of a second-year Hufflepuff called Justin Finch-Fletchley. Years later, when Harry would look back on this, he would never be able to say for sure if his actions that night were very brave or just very stupid, or perhaps very both. Whichever they were, he started running toward the snake, "Leave him alone!" he shouted at the snake. The snake immediately turned toward Harry before Snape banished it. When Harry looked up, the whole hall was staring at him as though he had just dropped down from the sky.

"What are you playing at?" Justin asked him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked him back, but Hermione quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the Great Hall.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a parselmouth?" Hermione asked when they were out of the hall.

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A what?" Ron repeated.

"A parselmouth. It means you can talk to snakes."

"I didn't know," Harry said, then a memory played at his mind. "I set a boa constrictor on my cousin at the zoo once. I thought everyone could do that. Can't they?"

"No, it's really rare," Hermione said, her brow furrowing with worry, "and it's what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why Slytherin's mascot is a snake. Everyone's really going to think you're his heir now."

"But I'm not," Harry said quickly. He wasn't, was he? Surely, he wasn't. Suddenly another memory dropped, unwanted and unbidden, into his head: a memory of the sorting hat telling him he could be great in Slytherin.

"How can you be sure? Slytherin lived so long ago, you could be his heir and just not know it." Hermione proffered.

"But I haven't been attacking people!" Harry said. Suddenly, the common room was starting to feel very small and closed in.

"We know that, mate," Ron assured him quickly. "But it was a little strange seeing you talk to that snake. Why'd you set it on Justin?"

"I didn't," Harry protested. "I was telling it to get away from him. I'm the only reason it didn't bite him!"

"You have to understand what it looked like," Hermione said, "We couldn't understand what you were saying. To us, it looked like you were pushing it toward Justin."

"That's nonsense!" Harry shouted.

"We know!" Hermione shouted back. "I'm just telling you what it looked like from where we were standing. This is bad, Harry. This is really, really bad."

Now Harry felt like the walls really were starting to close in on him. He turned and ran out of the portrait hole. He had only one destination in mind: the Astronomy tower. He had to talk to Sirius. Sirius would know what to do.


	8. Anxiety and Accusations

"Sirius! Open up!" Harry shouted, banging on his godfather's door. He was relieved when Sirius appeared at the door looking concerned. He quickly stepped inside without waiting to be invited.

"Pronglet, what's the matter?" Sirius asked.

"Did you know I'm a parselmouth?"

"A what?" Sirius asked.

"A parselmouth. It means I can talk to snakes."

"I know what it means, but you most certainly are not one."

"I am!" Harry insisted, feeling as though he might cry from frustration. "I just talked to a snake in the Great Hall in front of half the school! Now everyone's going to think I'm Salazar Slytherin's great-great grandson or something!"

"Harry, just calm down. No one's going to think you're Slytherin's grandson. You're not even in his house."

"But I almost was!" Harry protested. "The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I asked to go to Gryffindor." Harry had never told anyone that before, not even his dad. If Sirius found it shocking, he didn't show it.

"Yes, it asked me if I wanted to go into Slytherin as well. All my family were in Slytherin, but I didn't want to go. The hat always take our own choices into account."

Harry stopped short. He had never known that about his godfather. "Really? It wanted to put you in Slytherin?" he asked. Sirius nodded. Suddenly, Harry felt better. His godfather was brave and good and kind and the hat had almost put him in Slytherin. Maybe Harry didn't need to worry about it so much. But there was still the problem of his being a parselmouth. "But I'm a parselmouth!" Harry said, a slight whinge creeping into his voice.

"That doesn't mean anything, Pronglet. It certainly doesn't mean you're Slytherin's heir. He wasn't the only parseltongue in history, after all. I say, the thing at the zoo a couple of summers back and the boa constrictor? Did you--"

"How did you know about that?" Harry interrupted.

"Well, Pronglet, your dad and I do talk from time to time. So, did you?"

"Yes," Harry admitted.

"Excellent," Sirius said with a smile. "Nice one."

"But it wasn't on purpose. He pushed me. I thought everyone could do it. I never realized it meant anything! Honestly I didn't!"

"I know," Sirius assured him. "There's a reason they call it _accidental_ magic, Harry."

"So what should I do?" Harry asked, plopping down on the couch and looking at Sirius as though he expected Sirius to somehow reverse time and make him not be a parseltongue.

"About what?" Sirius asked.

"Being a parselmouth!" Harry said, exasperated.

"I don't think there's anything you can do," Sirius told him. "Consider it a gift, I suppose."

"Some gift this is, it's worse than what the Dursleys send me!"

Sirius snorted. "It's not so bad as all that." he said, sitting next to Harry and putting a comforting arm around Harry's shoulder. "It may come in handy some day. You never know."

"But I don't want to be anything like Slytherin." Harry said, his whinge now fully matured. Dropping his head onto Sirius's shoulder, he added, "It's not fair. Why do these things always happen to me?"

"You're just lucky, I suppose," Sirius said with a sigh.

"If this is luck, I could use a little less of it," Harry grumbled. Then he told Sirius the whole story from the beginning.

After Harry had gone dejectedly off to his common room, Sirius went immediately to visit James.

"Did you know Harry is a parseltongue?" he asked as soon as he arrived in the living room.

"A what?" James asked.

"Yes, that was my reaction, too. Apparently, Harry is a parseltongue. He spoke to a snake in front of half the school at a club meeting tonight."

"Really? A parseltongue? No, I had no idea." James said, leaping to his feet.

"Poor kid's really freaked out. He thinks he might be Slytherin's heir."

"That's preposterous!" James said dismissively.

"Maybe you should talk to him. He's very upset. I got him mostly calmed down, but he's half-panicked."

James nodded and pulled Harry's mirror out of his robes. "Harry?" he asked, then more forcefully. "Harry, are you there?" Nothing happened. "He must not have it with him," James said. "I doubt he keeps it on him. I think this is the first time I've ever called him. Usually he's the one calling me."

"Maybe you should suggest he keep it on him," Sirius said.

"No, no kid wants to walk around school knowing he could get called by his father any second. He needs _some _freedom. When he wants to talk to me, he'll call."

"Those mirrors used to be lifesavers in detention," Sirius said, hoping to change the subject, but James wasn't having anything of it.

"I can't believe Harry's a parseltongue. And I never knew. I don't know where it came from. It doesn't run in my family, at least I don't think it does. And he certainly didn't get it from Lily."

"Can you imagine Petunia speaking parseltongue?" Sirius asked suddenly, a smile breaking out on his face. "You know, I used to secretly wish that lump of a son they've got would turn out to be a wizard."

"Yes, but then you'd have to put up with him," James said wryly. "And Vernon and Petunia probably would have disowned him and I would have ended up trying to raise him, which means you would have had to help."

Sirius shivered dramatically. "Perish the thought," he said, then added, "I bet Moony could put him in his place pretty quickly."

"That he could." James readily agreed. "I'd hate to think what would have happened to Harry while you were minding him if Remus hadn't been there to enforce a rule once in awhile."

"Hey, I enforce rules," Sirius protested.

"You enforce breaking them," James joked.

"I thought the entire point of rules was figuring out the most imaginative way to break them."

"Of course you did. That's how you managed to get me into so much trouble."

"Who got who into trouble, mate? I seem to remember you being the one with all the best ideas. Nice work with the Pronglet and the snowballs by the way. I don't think a single class has gone undisturbed since it snowed, and no one has figured out that he's the one doing it. Except me, of course, and I won't tell."

"That's my boy!" James said proudly.

"He's also figured out how to make snowballs follow around just one person. Poor Draco Malfoy has been walking around covered in snow for nearly a week!"

James's smile faded. "I've told Harry to stop picking on that Malfoy boy. I don't want him repeating our mistakes with Severus Snape."

"Oh, come now, Prongs. Malfoy picks on Harry just as much. Worse, actually. Malfoy was the one who set the snake on him tonight. That's hardly as harmless as a snowball. And surely you know what sort of things his father gets up to."

"It doesn't matter what his father gets up to. He is not his father. He could grow into a perfectly nice man. You did."

"True," Sirius conceded. "But the Malfoy boy is nasty, and he's a bully. Don't be too angry at Harry. He's mostly just defending himself."

"And I'm sure you're a completely unbiased observer," James said.

"Naturally." Sirius replied with a shrug.

"I suppose I'll have to have a talk with him about it," James sighed.

Sirius sighed as well. He hated that he had gotten Harry into trouble with his father. "I think you should just let it be. They're children. This is what children do. They'll grow out of it on their own. Nagging him about it is only going to make him feel put upon. You can bet your buttons that Lucius Malfoy isn't telling his son to leave Harry alone, and I know for a fact that Snape has been encouraging the Malfoy boy as well."

"Which is precisely why I don't want Harry picking on him! Surely you know that if we hadn't been so awful to Snape things would be much easier for Harry. These things have repercussions."

"Yes, yes, we were toerags." Sirius said dismissively. "But Harry isn't. He's nothing like we were. He's got so much of Lily in him. He's so kind, James. To everyone, all the time. You're not there, you don't see the way Malfoy treats him. Believe me when I tell you that Harry hasn't ever done anything unjustified to him. If ever he does, I'll be the first one telling you to do something about it. He has never crossed the line into cruelty, even when Malfoy has. It's just pranks, Prongs. Just childish pranks. Please stay out of it."

James pursed his lips and spent a moment in silence. "Fine," he said finally, "but I'm trusting you to tell me if that changes. I won't have him being a bully."

"I wouldn't have it either." Sirius assured his friend. "I swear on my reputation as a marauder."

James nodded. "I'll keep trying to catch him in the mirror. You should get back in case he needs you again."

Sirius nodded. "See you later, mate." Then he threw some floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, and was gone.

* * *

The next day Justin Finch-Fletchley wasn't in classes with the rest of his house. In Herbology, Harry overheard a Hufflepuff called Ernie MacMillan telling his friends that Justin was hiding out because he was sure Harry was going to attack him next. The Hufflepuffs all looked over at Harry as though he had just grown an extra head. At lunch, Fred and George informed him that the whole school thought him Slytherin's heir. He wasn't surprised. Meanwhile, Malfoy had actually made himself useful for once, insisting that Harry couldn't possibly be Slytherin's Heir. Though Harry was quite sure Malfoy wasn't doing it to be nice, he still called off the snowballs out of gratitude.

Everywhere Harry went, students screamed and scattered. In the library that evening, he overheard a gaggle of Hufflepuffs discussing him loudly.

"I'll bet that's why You-Know-Who tried to kill him. He probably knew he was Slytherin's Heir and wanted to get rid of him before he could grow up."

"Maybe that's how he survived. He clearly has very dark protective powers."

"Have you heard the way he talks about his muggle family members? He hates them, and they're related to him! You should hear the things he says about his aunt and uncle."

"I don't hate them because they're muggles. I hate them because they're foul." Harry said loudly, causing the indiscreet Hufflepuffs to start and run away. "And anyway, I don't hate them," he added under his breath. Harry had just left the library huffily when he ran into Hagrid carrying a dead chicken. "What's that you've got there, Hagrid?" Harry asked, even though it was patently obvious.

"Sommat's gettin' into meh chickens. Killed 'em all, it has." Hagrid told him. "No idea what's doin' it."

Harry didn't have any ideas either, but Hagrid invited him to come for tea on Saturday and Harry enthusiastically agreed. It had been far too long since he had visited Hagrid. He could use a good distraction. Even pranking was beginning to lose its fun. Harry huffed up to the common room where at least no one would look at him like he might breathe fire at any moment.

The next day it was more of the same. Fred and George began walking in front of Harry in the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin! Seriously evil wizard coming through!" Ron was embarrassed, but Harry was glad they were there. It gave him a laugh and at least he knew someone else thought the idea of his being the Heir of Slytherin was as ridiculous as he did. Harry would very much have liked a chance to speak to Justin and explain to him what he had actually told the snake, but so far as he could tell, Justin was still in hiding. At least, he wasn't in any of their classes. After dinner in the Great Hall, Harry trudged up to the Astronomy tower to pour out his troubles to Sirius.

"Bad day?" Sirius asked, sympathetically.

"The worst. You saw how everyone treated me in class. Everyone thinks I'm a dark wizard!"

"This will blow over, Pronglet. These things always do. Did I ever tell you about the prank I played that made Snape hate us so much?"

Harry shook his head.

"The marauders found a secret tunnel that led to the shrieking shack. It's supposed to be the most haunted house in all of Britain and when we were in school you could sometimes hear the shrieks all the way in the castle. Turned out a werewolf was using it for his transformations. I knew that was what was happening, and one full moon, I sent Snape down the tunnel. He would have met a full-blown werewolf at the end. It was the worst thing I've ever done. Luckily for me, and Snape too, I suppose, I told your dad about it and he managed to catch Snape and warn him before he got hurt. But Snape told the whole school I had tried to kill him, and the whole school believed him. By then my cousin Bellatrix and my brother were already terrorizing the whole place, so it was really easy for everyone to believe that I was the same. The worst part was that your dad and Remus were furious at me. They wouldn't speak to me for the longest time. I thought things were never going to be good for me again, but slowly your dad forgave me, and then Remus forgave me, and then the school noticed that I wasn't hanging around my brother and my cousin and it all died down. That's how things go when you're young. What seems so important today won't matter a whit tomorrow. Eventually, everyone will forget and things will go back to normal. You can count on it."

Harry listened to the story intently and wasn't sure what to say when it was over, though it did make him feel better to know that Sirius understood and have even had a similar experience. He sat in silence with Sirius, sipping tea and eating biscuits until Sirius suggested they play a game of exploding snap. When the game was over, Sirius told Harry he ought to go on and get back to his common room as it would be curfew soon. Harry gave Sirius a tight hug before leaving. "I'm glad you're here, Sirius. At least I know someone's on my side."

"I'll always be on your side, Pronglet. No matter what. By the way, you ought to get your mirror out and speak to your father. He's been worried about you."

"I will, as soon as I get back," Harry promised.

"Good man," Sirius said approvingly, giving Harry a smile. Harry smiled back, proudly. Sirius had just called him a man.

Harry was lost in thought as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. He came to with a jolt when he tripped over something hard. Standing quickly, he turned to see what he had fallen over and realized it was the petrified form of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Not far away, the petrified form of Nearly-Headless Nick floated eerily above the ground. Harry was just gathering his wits to run when Peeves appeared around the corner. Harry tried to shush him frantically, but upon seeing Nick, Peeves began shouting at the top of his voice, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO STUDENT OR GHOST IS SAFE!" In no time, Harry was surrounded by the accusing stares of his fellow students. Professor McGonagall was the first teacher on the scene.

"Professor, I didn't! I swear I didn't! I only found them that way!" Harry said in a rush, his panic rising.

"This is out of my hands," she said sadly. "Follow me."

Harry followed her morosely as she led him to the Headmaster's office.

"Lemon drop," she told a stone gargoyle and it immediately leapt aside to admit them onto a winding staircase. "Stay here while I go and speak to the headmaster," McGonagall ordered. Harry sat disconsolately and stared at his shoes. Soon, he began to look around the office. There were little instruments everywhere buzzing and whirring and emitting steam. Harry walked around, staring in wonder at everything until he spied the sorting hat. Throwing caution to the wind, he picked it up and placed it on his head.

"Harry Potter," the sorting hat said, "Gryfindor. Yes, you were particularly difficult to place. Courage you have, but also ambition. I know you asked not to go to Slytherin, but I still think you could have been great there." Harry ripped the hat off his head and tossed it. It landed in the corner, next to a birdcage with a very sickly-looking bird inside. It had only one feather clinging to its tail and looked as though it might keel over at any moment.

"_That would be just what I need, to have Dumbledore's bird die while I'm alone with it_," Harry thought forlornly. Just then, the final feather fell and the bird let out a pitiful squawk before bursting into flames. Harry yelled and Dumbledore and McGonagall came rushing out of the inner office. Why, oh why, did all these things have to happen to him? "Professor, I didn't. I swear! I didn't even touch it!"

"Harry, don't worry," Dumbledore said kindly, "Look." Dumbledore pointed to the bottom of the cage, where a tiny bald baby bird was climbing out of the ashes. "Fawkes is a phoenix. It's a shame you had to see him on a burning day. He's quite beautiful otherwise. Wonderful creatures, phoenixes. They make very loyal pets and they're quite useful. They can carry many times their weight and their tears have restorative properties."

Harry nodded mutely at this. He very much doubted he had been brought in here to hear a treatise about the properties of phoenix tears. Just then, Sirius burst into the room. "Albus, Harry couldn't have attacked that boy. He was with me not five minutes before the boy was found. It's simply not possible."

"Don't worry, Sirius, I do not think Harry is responsible for these attacks." Dumbledore replied patiently. Sirius, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Harry all stared at one another for a moment before Dumbledore finally said, pointedly, "I would like a word with Harry alone, please." Sirius and McGonagall quickly exited, Sirius giving Harry a significant look on the way out the door.

"Harry, I must ask you, is there anything you're not telling me?" Harry felt as though Dumbledore's eyes were boring right through him. He thought of all the things he was keeping from the people who loved him: the polyjuice potion, the house elf, the strange voice, his secret fears that he might actually be the monster everyone thought him. He thought of all these things, then he swallowed them down.

"No, Professor," he said. "There's nothing."

Harry had the distinct impression that Dumbledore knew he was lying, but if he did he never let on. "Very well, Harry, but if you think of something, please promise me you'll come to me."

"I will, Professor. I promise." Harry said, hating the lie even as he spoke it. Lying was not generally in his nature. He left the office and slogged up the stairs to the common room and immediately crawled into bed and pulled his blankets over his face. Tomorrow was not going to be a good day.


	9. Rows and Requests

_Disclaimer: this chapter contains very mild corporal punishment. At this point, the author would like it known that this story is in no way intended to advocate corporal discipline of children or anyone, for that matter._

_

* * *

_

The next day, James came to Hogwarts to take Harry home. Harry and James had a magnificent row about in Harry's dormitory.

After their classes had finished, Harry and the rest of the second-year Gryffindors made their way to their common room to drop off their things. The day had gone just as badly for Harry as he had expected it to. Gryffindors were now the only people speaking to Harry at all. Glares and whispers followed him everywhere he went, leaving Harry feeling very gloomy indeed. The second-year boys arrived in the dormitory in a clump and stopped short as they entered the room to find James standing in the middle of it.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Harry asked. He couldn't decide if he was relieved to see such a welcome face or annoyed that his father had actually come to his dormitory. He was quite sure that a bloke's father was not supposed to come to his dormitory.

"Pack your things. We're going home," James said.

"No, I don't want to leave!" Harry protested. Even with everything going wrong, he didn't want to be the only boy in all of Britain who wasn't in Hogwarts. When would he ever see his friends?

"This isn't up for debate. Pack your things."

Harry put his satchel on the ground resolutely and crossed his arms over his chest. "No," he repeated. "I'm staying here."

"Excuse me?" James asked, shifting his weight and crossing his arms over his chest as well.

The other boys all made a quick exit then, except for Neville, who stood staring at them like a frightened rabbit until Ron stuck his head back into the room, grabbed the back of Neville's robes, and pulled him backward out of the dormitory, closing the door behind him.

"I want to stay here," Harry insisted.

"It isn't safe for you here," James countered. "There have been three attacks now. No one knows what's happening or how to make it stop. The last time the chamber was opened someone died. You're coming home and that's final."

"No, I'm not!" Harry said, stubbornly refusing to move.

"Oh yes you are!" James shouted.

"No, I'm not! I'm staying with my friends!" Harry shouted back.

"Don't you shout at me!" James shouted, taking a step closer to Harry.

"You shouted at me first!" Harry shouted.

"I'm your father! I'm allowed to shout at you! Now pack your things. You're going home!"

"This isn't fair!" Harry shouted. "I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm staying right here!"

"You don't have a say in the matter!"

"Of course I do, and I'm not going! You always treat me like I'm helpless! I'm not helpless, and I'm not a child!"

"You're my child! And I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe. I don't care if I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming and clawing at the bloody floor! You're coming home with me. Right now!" James tried in vain to control his temper. He had expected Harry to be unhappy about his decision and was even prepared for stubborn refusals and belligerence, but he hadn't expected an explosion quite like this.

"I won't, and you can't make me!" James reached around Harry then and gave Harry a sharp smack across the backside. He regretted it immediately. He had never before struck Harry in anger. He felt as though an invisible line had just been crossed, and there was no way to get back to the other side of it again. His anger lifted immediately as guilt flooded into him.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," he said, his voice dropping. Harry was quaking with anger and breathing heavily. The smack had stung only a very little bit, but his pride had not escaped so unscathed.

"Get out of here!" Harry shouted when he found his voice.

"Don't shout at me, Harry." James said, working to keep his own temper under control.

"You smacked me!" Harry accused.

"And I said I was sorry,"

"Well I don't accept your apology. Get out!"

"You'd best watch it, young man, or I might just smack you again!" James shouted, his temper getting the better of him again. Even so, he knew he would not be smacking Harry again.

Harry and James continued to shout at each other, Harry insisting he would not go no matter what James did to him and James insisting he would go no matter what he had to do. At some point, Sirius came running in. Someone, Harry would later find out it was Hermione, had gone to fetch him in a panic. "We are leaving tonight and if you don't start packing right this instant, I'm going to cast petrificus totalus on you and levitate you out of here by your ankles!" James finally said. "I'll not discuss it any more."

"I have an idea," Sirius broke in.

"You stay out of this!" Harry and James shouted at him together.

"Fine by me," Sirius said, stretching out casually on Harry's bed and putting his arms behind his head, "by all means, go on shouting at each other if that's what you want. I'm sure you're putting on quite a show for everyone in the common room." No one said anything in response, so Sirius continued. "James, let Harry finish out the term--"

"Absolutely not," James said with an air of finality in his voice.

Sirius continued as though he hadn't been interrupted, "It's only another week, mate. Let him take his exams and say goodbye to his friends. Let him ride the train back. Then keep him with you after Christmas."

"No!" Harry insisted, "I want to come back. What about all my friends? I'll never see them. What about my lessons? How will I learn magic?"

"Your friends can visit you," Sirius said, "And I'm fairly sure your dad can handle second-year spells. Call it a hunch."

"But I'll be the only person not at Hogwarts!" Harry said, deflating. Now that Sirius was here and so obviously on his father's side, he knew the battle was lost. If he were being honest with himself, he would have known the battle was lost before he ever started fighting it. "You said you'd always be on my side," Harry said accusingly at Sirius.

"I am on your side, Pronglet," Sirius said firmly. "I'm on both your sides, actually. I happen to think your dad's got a point. I also happen to think it will do you good to get away from here for a while. You need a break from all this Heir of Slytherin nonsense. You're far too stressed out. Now I think you should both take a breather before one of you says something you'll regret. James, I've been thinking of dropping in on Remus all week. I haven't seen him in far too long. Would you care to join me?"

"I'll be glad to," James replied, "just give me a moment."

"Sure thing, but if I hear anything that sounds even remotely like shouting, I'm going to march back up here and turn you both into violet wombats." Sirius replied breezily, standing and walking out of the dormitory.

Harry was staring forlornly at the floor. James put a finger under his chin and brought his face up until their eyes met. "I'm sorry I smacked you. Very sorry. As in, now would be a good time to ask for a Nimbus 2001 sorry."

Harry shrugged, "I guess I can see why you did. I'm sorry I shouted at you. I didn't mean it. But I really want to stay."

James sighed. "I know you do, kiddo. And I promise I'm not doing this to make you miserable. I'm scared of leaving you here. Can't you understand that? I'm afraid things are about to get very dangerous here, and I want you as far away as possible. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you. I love you so much."

Harry hated to see his father like this, his eyes full of pain. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father, burying his face in the familiar chest and breathing in his father's scent. Years later, after James was gone, Harry would think back on this moment with a strange fondness, wishing he could return to this moment in time at will and stay in it forever. James returned the embrace, hugging Harry tightly and kissing his hair.

"I love you too, Dad," Harry finally said, "and I'll see you in a week."

"In a week then. I'll pick you up in London," James said, giving the top of Harry's head one final kiss and then walking out the door.

"Dad?" Harry called just after James stepped out onto the staircase.

James stuck his head back in. "Yes?"

"About that Nimbus 2001?"

James gave Harry half a smile. "We'll see."

"Did I mention that the smack really hurt? I doubt I'll be able to sit down at dinner."

"Don't push it, mate," James said with a laugh. Then he turned and was gone.

As soon as the door was closed, Harry flung himself face-down on his bed and put a pillow over his head. He groaned when he heard the door open, but was relieved when Ron and Hermione identified themselves and came to sit next to him on the bed.

"I have to leave Hogwarts," Harry said, not bothering to lift the pillow off his face.

"Bad luck," Ron said sympathetically. "But I bet you're back in no time. Dumbledore will get all of this straightened out soon. I'm sure of it, and in the meantime, we'll just have to live it up this week. Maybe you can get Fred and George to teach you how to get to the kitchens. I've been trying to get them to teach me for the longest time!" While he appreciated what Ron was trying to do, Harry really wasn't in any mood to be cheered up.

"You can't waste too much time in the kitchens," Hermione said. "You're still going to be here for exams. We have to study." Harry sighed and lifted his head. "I'd rather fight another mountain troll than try to study right now. I'll go see what I can get out of Fred and George."

He lifted himself off the bed and lumbered out of the room, feeling very sorry for himself.

_

* * *

_

"Are you sure you have to pull him out of school?" Sirius asked James as they made their way to the Astronomy tower.

"Yes, I'm not willing to let him stay here when it isn't safe." James snapped, "And I'll thank you to keep out of it."

"Easy, mate." Sirius said, "I just want to be sure you know what you're doing. This isn't the time for rash decisions."

"This isn't a rash decision. I've been thinking about it ever since the first attack, and then again when Harry started being accused of being the Heir of Slytherin. Honestly, do you think I'm happy about pulling him out of school? The second all of this blows over, I'll have him right back here."

"That sounds reasonable, I suppose," Sirius said.

"Thanks for having my back with Harry, Sirius."

"No worries, mate. I thought maybe you could use a little support."

"Yes. That could have gone much better."

"I noticed that, but don't worry about him. He'll come around."

"I certainly hope so."

"He will." Sirius said confidently as they arrived at Sirius's quarters and used the floo network to go to their friend's house. There, James repeated the exchange he had had with Harry, leaving out the part about the smack partially because he thought it was no one's business how he disciplined his son and partially because he was ashamed to admit he had lost his temper so thoroughly. It was clear to Remus and Sirius that James felt more than a little guilty over having handled Harry so badly. Remus joined Sirius in assuring him that Harry would forgive him quickly if he hadn't already. Then they fell into the easy silence of familiarity, each lost on his own thoughts.

"I think I'd fancy a go on my broomstick. Anyone up for some quidditch?" James asked them.

"It's dark, Prongs." Lupin said.

"And cold," Sirius added.

"And you're going to let that stop you? What sort of Gryffindors are you?"

"Old ones," Remus said quickly. "With arthritis."

"You're nowhere near old enough to have arthritis." James replied.

"Moony was born old enough to have arthritis." Sirius said with a laugh.

"It's true. I was." Remus assured them.

"Then you can be the referee," James said, standing quickly and making his way to the fireplace. Within moments he had returned with two broomsticks. He tossed one of them to Sirius. "I took the liberty of getting yours, Padfoot."

"Thanks," Sirius said, catching the broomstick easily. The old friends made their way out to the back yard and mounted their brooms. James relished the feel of the cold winter air. Nothing ever made him feel as free as flying. In the sky there were no worries. The game was close, but James was declared the winner. After Sirius had gotten all his protests out of his system and Remus had threatened to throw him out of the game and James had reminded them that the game was over and Sirius had asked them what they were all arguing about if the game was over and Remus had told him that he started the argument in the first place because he was so mad he lost, which almost started the whole cycle over again, the three friends moved their meeting inside where they could continue it over stew and butterbeers.

"Remus, would you be interested in helping to tutor Harry?" James asked. "I'm sure I can manage it alone, but you're so brilliant and all."

"I'd love to, and you don't even have to flatter me," Remus said with a smile. "I'll see if I can come up with some lesson plans."

"I'll be happy to help, too. Thanks for asking." Sirius said, feigning indignation.

"I figured you'd be busy filling the heads of all the other students. If you'd like to help out, be my guest. I'd hate to sentence Harry to lessons with only me. Who knows what kind of holes I'll leave in his lessons."

"He'll know all about getting himself into trouble once you're done with him, that's for sure." Remus said.

"He already knows how to do that." Sirius said, "Besides, that's not something that can be taught. You either have the talent for it or you don't. That's why it was lucky for you that you made friends with James and me. Who knows what would have happened to you otherwise. You'd probably be minister of magic or something equally respectable."

James shuddered in response.

"Not likely, not with my furry little problem." Remus said, a trace of fatigue in his voice.

"I do have to say, it will be nice to have Harry home again." James commented.

"Yes," Remus readily agreed. "I'm looking forward to spending some time with him."

"I guess I'm going to have to start coming round on Saturdays to get my fill," Sirius said with a sigh.

"Poor kid won't know what hit him." James said.

"Speaking of which, do either of you have any bright ideas on what to get him for Christmas?" Sirius asked.

"I have an idea, but I'm not going to tell what it is," Remus piped up.

"I think I may have promised him a Nimbus 2001 tonight," James said ruefully.

"Brilliant," Sirius said.

"You didn't," Remus scolded.

"I didn't mean to. It just sort of slipped out."

"You are such a light touch." Remus said. "Honestly."


	10. Happy Holidays

If Harry ever saw another butterbeer, it would be too soon.

Harry wanted his last week at Hogwarts to pass by very slowly, so naturally it flew. Fred and George had happily told him how to find the kitchens and Harry had been making himself very popular amongst the Gryffindor students all week by nicking all manner of treats and bringing them up to the common room to share. Harry himself had drunk enough butterbeers and eaten enough pumpkin pasties to last him a lifetime. It seemed no time at all had passed before all his exams were taken, his trunk was packed, his bed was stripped, and he was walking out of the common room for what he knew would be the last time for a while. The trip back on the train with Ron and Hermione flew by faster than Harry thought possible as well and, before he knew it, he was saying his goodbyes and helping his father get his trunk into the car.

Harry and James did not speak much on the way home. They were no longer angry at one another, but Harry stared stormily out the window as they traveled. After a few attempts to make small talk, James let the silence reign. Harry was aware that he was being unfair to his father, but he could not shake the bout of melancholy that had gotten a stronghold on his heart. Usually this drive was such a happy time for him as Harry told James all about his term and what he had learned and caught him up on all the pranks he had played. Today, Harry just didn't feel like talking. When they got home, Harry shut himself in his room and unpacked his trunk. James knocked on the door and offered to help, but Harry refused the offer, feeling it was something he needed to do for himself. He didn't come out of his room again until his father called him down for dinner. They were having spaghetti.

"I thought maybe we could go get a Christmas tree tomorrow. I pulled all the decorations out. They're in the living room waiting for us." Decorating the tree together was one of their favorite traditions. Usually just the mention of it would get Harry into high spirits. Today, he only shrugged.

"That would be fine, I guess."

James tried not to let on how badly he was hurt by Harry's lack of enthusiasm.

"Come on, Harry, it's Christmas. Can't you at least try to smile?"

Harry gave a weak smile and went back to toying with his spaghetti.

"Don't you like the spaghetti?" James asked. "I made it special for you. I know it's your favorite. When you were little, you used to tuck into it with two forks. You used to make the biggest mess and your mother would get so angry at me for giving it to you. So of course I gave it to you as often as I could just to make her mad."

"May I be excused?" Harry asked suddenly. "Only I'm not very hungry."

James sighed, looking sadly at his son. "Yes, go on then," he finally said.

"Can I borrow your mirror? I'd like to have a word with Sirius."

James paused for a moment and then nodded. He handed the mirror over, trying very hard to swallow down the hard lump of jealousy that had lodged itself in his throat. When Harry had gone, he dropped his head into his hands. Suddenly, he didn't feel very hungry either. He was still sitting there when Harry returned with the mirror.

"Thanks," Harry said as he handed it over.

"Any time," James replied.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I think we should go get a Christmas tree tomorrow. I'd like that." Harry smiled. "Would you like to play exploding snap?"

"I'd love to," James said, rising up and going to the closet where he kept his games. Their tension eased as they played and finally, during the second round, James heard what he had been waiting for. As the deck exploded with enough force to singe James's eyebrows, Harry burst into a fit of laughter that didn't stop for a full minute.

"I'm glad you find my discomfort so amusing." James said.

Eventually, Harry's bedtime came, and James sent him off with a hug. Then he pulled out Sirius's mirror and called for his friend.

"I've been expecting you," Sirius said as his face came into the mirror.

"Thank you for whatever you said to Harry,"

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you don't. Thank you just the same."

"All I did was tell him I was going to turn him into a chartreuse chicken if he didn't start behaving himself."

James laughed. "A chartreuse chicken? Where do you come up with these things?"

"What do you mean, come up with them? I mean them, mate. Harry knows very well that I mean business, and that if I say I'm going to turn him into a chartreuse chicken his only choices are to shape up or start squawking."

James laughed louder and longer than he had in some time.

"Are things better between you now?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, they are, but I suspect you knew that already."

"I may have. I know a lot of things. I'm a very smart fellow."

James and Sirius continued their conversation until Sirius begged off to go to sleep. "It take a lot of rest to grade exams. It's hard work, mate. Not that you'd know anything about work, what with your cushy job."

"Happy dreams." James said.

"You too, Prongs."

When he got to the top of the stairs, James peeked into Harry's room. Harry had always slept curled up into a ball, even when he was an infant. Tonight was no different. James stood in the doorway and watched him sleep until he felt his own eyes drooping. Then he walked over to Harry, tucked him in, and caressed his cheek. "I love you, kiddo," he whispered to his son. "Sweet dreams." Then he turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

On Christmas day, Sirius arrived at 6 AM and woke Harry and James up shouting about being ready for his presents. "You're worse than a child," James said sleepily, making his way down the stairs in his pajamas.

"Pronglet, where were you?" Sirius asked when Harry appeared behind his father, rubbing his eyes. "You've always been sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for me before." Harry shrugged

"Age twelve: the year Harry officially became more mature than you." James commented before heading to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

"Do you remember the year you accidentally mistook me for Father Christmas?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Harry said, stifling a yawn. "I was so disappointed when I realized it was only you." From the kitchen, a distinct snort of laughter could be heard.

"That's harsh, Pronglet. I'm hurt." Sirius said, but he was laughing. James reappeared a moment later with a cup of coffee for Sirius, who took it gratefully.

"Can I have some coffee?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," James answered quickly, but the second he was out of the room, Sirius gave him a sip. Harry made a face as he swallowed it.

"How can you like this?" he asked Sirius.

"It grows on you. Tell me how you feel about it after you've passed your N.E.W.T.s"

Remus arrived around 8:00 and they all attacked their presents. Harry got a jumper from Mrs. Weasley and large stash of sweets from Ron. Hermione sent him a potions book that he immediately discarded. Sirius laughed loudly when he opened his present from James, a particularly awful pair of sunglasses with pink heart-shaped frames that Harry had received as a gift from the Dursleys a few years before. The four had been passing them around ever since. Sirius immediately put them on and refused to take them off the rest of the day. Everyone made a big production out of it when Harry opened this year's present from the Dursleys. They took guesses as to what it might be this year. They played this game every year. Whoever got closest would be declared the winner and get to choose how they would dispose of the gift. Harry felt the flat rectangular package and guessed maybe a small book. James guessed a block of wood. Remus thought it might be an empty box, and Sirius insisted it was a water pistol even though there was no way a water pistol could have been in the small box Harry held in his hand. It turned out to be a chocolate bar that was so stale it had acquired a white dusting. Sirius transfigured it into a water pistol while no one was looking, declared himself the winner, and then threw it into the fire. They all oohed and ahhed as they watched it turn back into a chocolate bar and melt. From Sirius, Harry got a load of of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks and a large, glowing mock-up of the galaxy that could be stuck on his ceiling. "You can fall asleep under the stars and thinking about how I'm your favorite professor," Sirius said. James gave him a Nimbus 2001.

"Can I have your Nimbus 2000? Only it's better than the broomstick I've got." Sirius asked.

Harry shrugged. "What about Remus? Your broomstick is better than his."

"No, thank you," Remus said. "I don't think I'd fancy a new broomstick. I like mine just fine. Besides, I never was much one for flying. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground."

"Alright then," Harry said. "Have it."

"Bloody brilliant! Thanks, Pronglet!"

Harry opened Remus's gift last. Sirius and James tended to buy him expensive things, but Remus's gifts were often him favorites. They were almost always homemade, but Remus was so creative and so talented with a wand that Harry felt each gift he gave was priceless. This year, it was a small mirror just like the one his father had given him before he went to Hogwarts.

"I gave Ron Weasley the other one. Now you two can talk as often as you like."

Harry launched himself at Remus and wrapped his arms around Remus's neck. "Thank you!" He enthused.

After the presents were opened and Sirius and James had made a mess with the paper large enough to suit them, they all traipsed into the kitchen for sausage and eggs. After breakfast, they had a wizard's chess tournament in which Remus trounced them all.

"Now I remember why we never let you play with us, Moony." James said after Remus had finished his gloating.

"It's not my fault if you've no head for strategy." Remus shot back.

After lunch, the men broke into the bottle of oak-matured mead that Sirius had given James that morning. "Can I have some mead?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Not on your life," James replied, but Sirius gave him a sip while James was in the loo. Remus scolded them both impressively, but Sirius told him to stuff it.

"Fine," Remus said, "it's your life. If you want to throw it away over mead, that's your business."

Harry liked the mead much better than the coffee and asked for a second sip, which Sirius obligingly gave him. He was in the middle of his fourth sip when James came back into the room.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Harry quickly handed the glass of mead back to Sirius and arranged his features into what he hoped was an innocent expression.

"Nothing," he said casually.

"You gave him mead," James said, turning on Sirius.

"Come on, Prongs, it's Christmas."

"He also gave me coffee," Harry said helpfully.

"You little bugger!" Sirius exclaimed. "See if I ever help you again." But he was laughing. Soon, his laughter had spread to all of them.

"All right. I suppose it is Christmas." James said finally, then added sternly, "But no more, Harry. I mean it."

"You'd best watch it, Pronglet. He means it." Sirius stated.

"You shut it, or I'll turn you into a periwinkle duck." James told Sirius, advancing his wand menacingly.

"Now, that I'd pay to see," Remus said.

"The whole world's against me." Sirius muttered.

"Sirius, how do you always manage to keep out of trouble?" Harry asked.

"It's because I keep a cool head in a crisis. Cool as ice mice. That's me."

"Unless you get to laughing." James said. "Then he can't stop." James explained to Harry. Harry was aware of this rather amusing personality quirk of Sirius's; it was part of his charm. "He got us in more trouble that way."

"Not as much as you, constantly confessing to everything under the slightest pressure."

"I only confessed to the really bad things. I couldn't help it. The guilt would get to me after awhile. That's what happens we you have a conscience. Not that you would know anything about that."

"I have a conscience. There are a few pranks I wish we hadn't pulled." Sirius told his friends.

"Like the one with the werewolf?" Harry asked.

Remus dropped his glass, spilling mead all over the carpet. James leapt to his feet. "You told him?" He said with shock.

"Yes, he told me. Was he not supposed to?" Harry asked. Joking was one thing, but Harry knew he had just let something very serious slip out of his mouth. He didn't like the thought of getting Sirius into real trouble. Behind Harry, Sirius was shaking his head frantically and mouthing "No, I didn't," to his friends. Remus was staring into space with his mouth open and didn't see him. James was staring at Remus and didn't see him either.

"Oh dear, you must have rather a lot of questions for me, then, Harry." Remus said after a pregnant pause.

"Why? Were you part of the prank? Sirius told me he did it alone." Harry asked. Remus and James both breathed a sigh of relief. Remus's furry little secret was still safe.

"Yes, I did it alone," Sirius said quickly. "Remus didn't have anything to do with it. He didn't even find out about it until the next day."

"I think I'd fancy some biscuits. Harry would you go fetch us some?" James asked as Remus worked to start his breathing again. Harry wasn't eager to leave when something important was clearly happening, but he recognized a dismissal when he heard one, so he quickly got off the couch and trotted into the kitchen where he had every intention of eavesdropping. As soon as he was gone, James cast muffliato so Harry wouldn't overhear them and then smacked Sirius in the back of the head. "You dolt!" He scolded in a whisper. "What were you thinking about, telling him about that?"

"Easy, mate," Sirius whispered back. "Obviously I didn't tell him about Remus. I only told him there was a werewolf. I didn't tell him who it was. I was just trying to make him feel better about everyone hating him after he spoke parseltongue."

"I guess that's not so bad," Remus offered.

"It wasn't his place to tell." James argued.

"I didn't tell a single thing that wasn't mine to tell." Sirius said. "Give me a little credit."

"It's fine," Remus said. "Just let it go."

Just then Harry returned. "Do you hear a buzzing?" Harry asked. James lifted the spell with a flick of his wand. "Oh, never mind. It's gone now." He sat the tin of biscuits on the coffee table and sat next to Sirius. Sirius suggested they go outside and play two-on-a-side quidditch. The others readily agreed. After they had finished arguing over who had to take Remus and James had drawn the short straw, they made their preparations.

"I'm sorry I got you into trouble," Harry told Sirius as they huddled to discuss their strategy. "I didn't know I wasn't supposed to know about that."

"You didn't get me into trouble, Pronglet. It was just a misunderstanding. You worry too much." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair and then was all business. "We've got an advantage since your dad's got Remus. Shouldn't be too hard to win this thing. How about this? I'll be keeper and you play chaser. Your dad will probably play chaser, too, and you'll really have to stay on him. He's tricky."

"Yes, I've played with him once or twice before, you know. You just focus on guarding the goals. I can handle my dad. And if he gets away from me, you can always confund him."

Sirius laughed loudly, causing James and Remus to break their own huddle and look at them from the other side of the yard.

"We're ready when you are!" Sirius called. "The Pronglet is a master strategist. He just came up with a fool-proof game plan."

"Good thing it's fool-proof." James called back. "Otherwise you wouldn't be able to handle it."

After it got dark and the game had been called for Harry and Sirius and James got to where he could walk in a straight line again after Sirius's confundus charm, Sirius and Harry retired to Harry's room to hang up his star chart. Then they stretched out on his bed with their hands behind their heads and stared at it. It took up the whole ceiling and glowed like the real stars. It was almost as good as being outside.

"This is brilliant, Sirius. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Oh, I didn't tell you the best part. It moves with the earth, so what you're seeing right now is an exact replica of what you'd be seeing if you were outside. It'll change with the time of day and the seasons."

"Brilliant!" Harry repeated. "How did you do this?"

"It was a pretty complex charm. I actually went through a couple before I managed to make it work."

"Can you teach me?"

"Sure, Pronglet. I'll be glad to."

"I'm going to miss having classes with you."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course. You're my favorite professor."

"Even when I threaten to take house points from you?"

"Well, you never actually have taken house points from me, have you?"

"From my old house? Never!" Sirius smiled, then thought better of it and added, "Although you've never pushed me to it. I would if I had to, you know."

"I know, although it is a bit hard to take you seriously when you're wearing those ridiculous sunglasses."

"Don't you dare mock the sunglasses, Pronglet. These are the best Christmas present I've ever gotten. I may start wearing them to teach classes in."

Harry laughed, thinking of Sirius standing in front of his classes in the pink heart-shaped sunglasses. He couldn't wait to see that, and then his face fell as he remembered he wouldn't get to.

"Do you think I'll get to come back?" Harry asked dejectedly.

"Yes, I think you will. Your dad will let you back as soon as we get this whole Chamber thing sorted out, so don't fret about it. He's just worried about you."

"I know. And I was really awful to him."

"You were angry. I'd have been angry, too, if I were in your place, but he's only doing it because he loves you."

They fell into silence for a few moments, lost in the stars overhead. Then Harry spoke. "Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"Why were Dad and Remus so upset that I knew about the werewolf prank?"

"That's a very long story. Maybe I'll tell you about it another day."

Harry nodded, still staring up at the stars.

"Well, shall we go?" Sirius asked. "We've left them alone for far too long. There's no telling what they're getting into. You don't know what it's like, trying to keep Remus in line."

"That's funny, he says the same thing about you." Harry said, rolling off the bed.

"He's obviously lying." Sirius said with a wry smile. "I walk the straight and narrow."

"I'll be down in a bit," Harry said, "I think I'm going to get my new mirror and have a chat with Ron."

"Don't take too long. It's almost dinner time."

That night, after Sirius and Remus had gone, Harry lay under his starswept ceiling thinking of the lovely day he had had. While he wished he could go back to Hogwarts, he had to admit that staying here with his dad wouldn't be so bad. Here, everyone loved him and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. He fell asleep thinking how lucky he was to have so many people in his life who loved him so much.


	11. Slugs and Secrets

Remus and James kept Harry very busy on the day he was to have gone back to Hogwarts. Harry's lessons started the next day. Remus turned out to be a wonderful teacher, possibly the best Harry had ever had, although he vowed not to ever tell Sirius he thought so.

Harry and Ron spoke nearly every night via Remus's mirror. Most nights, Ron passed the mirror to Hermione so she could have a chat with Harry as well. Some nights, the mirror got passed around the common room so everyone could say hello. Those tended to be long nights because Neville and Ginny Weasley would always keep coming round for more. Once, to Harry's surprise, he even got handed to Professor McGonagall, who actually told him that she missed him in her classes. Harry thought he'd never been so touched. All in all, he stayed in good spirits, but speaking through a mirror was not the same as being there in the dormitory. About the time Harry started feeling so homesick for Hogwarts he didn't think he could stand it anymore, James arranged with Ron and Hermione's parents for the two to come spend a weekend with Harry in February. Harry was delighted at the thought of having his friends with him and nearly drove Remus batty in his lessons on the day they were to arrive. It was nearly dinnertime when Ron stepped out of the fireplace, followed closely by Hermione and then Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Harry, how nice to see you." Dumbledore said serenely. "I just wanted to be sure your friends made it safely. I see that they have, and now I shall be off. Have your lessons been going well?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said politely, "but I do miss Hogwarts."

"And Hogwarts misses you, my dear boy, but I have every confidence you shall return to us, and sooner than you think." Then Dumbledore said goodbye and quickly stepped into the floo. Ron had been to Harry's house before, but Hermione had not, so Harry gave them a tour and let them set down their things. Ron would be staying in Harry's room, and Hermione in the guest bedroom. They had just finished the tour when James called them down for dinner. They all tucked in hungrily to their curry, Ron and Harry eating it far faster than they ought so that they could get up to Harry's room and start making mischief.

"Your dad is charming, Harry." Hermione told them when they had all been excused from the table.

"Yeah, he's all right, I guess," Harry said, not sure what to say.

"I have something to show you," Ron said, pulling a very old and musty-looking book from his bag. "Hermione and I found this when we went to clean up the Polyjuice potion. Someone tried to flush it down the toilet. You should have seen Myrtle. She was so mad. It was hilarious."

"Even ghosts have feelings, Ronald." Hermione said.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"We don't know." Hermione told him. "It looks like it's very old, but there's nothing written in it. I thought maybe it was in invisible ink or enchanted or something, but I can't make anything out of it."

Harry ran his finger over the cover and then flipped through the pages. They were empty, as promised, except for the first page, which said "T.M. Riddle" in small writing.

"T.M. Riddle? I wonder who that is." Harry said. He felt odd when he read the name, as though he had heard it somewhere before but couldn't place a finger on where.

"He was a student at Hogwarts fifty years ago. He got a trophy for special services to the school. Only I had to polish it about fifty times when I got detention with Filch last week. I tried to Hex Draco Malfoy, but it backfired and hit Filch instead." Ron held up his wand, giving it a shake. He had broken it when the Flying Ford smashed into the whomping willow and put it back together with spell-o-tape. It had been misbehaving all year.

"What was the hex?" Harry asked lightly.

"Belching up slugs. Boy was Filch mad. McGonagall, too. He tried to convince her to let him chain me up by my wrists and whip me, and for a moment I was afraid she was going to agree. But then she just took about a million house points and gave me a week's worth of detention instead."

"Ron reckons - and I agree - that this Riddle must have got the award for catching the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets the last time it was opened." Hermione informed Harry.

Harry tried a few things to get the book to reveal its secrets, but nothing worked, so he tossed it on his desk and forgot about it until the following evening. Ron and Harry were tossing a quaffle around while Hermione sat on the bed reading some of James's books. Ron made a spectacularly bad throw and Harry leaped to catch it. He landed hard on the desk, knocking the book and a bottle of ink flying through the air. They landed on the floor, where the ink immediately began to spread into a puddle. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all rushed to contain the mess. Harry lifted the book and flipped through the pages to see how badly it was damaged. It was completely clean. "Look at this," he said. He showed Ron and Hermione what he had found. "I've had an idea!" Harry said. He ran out of the room and returned with a fresh bottle of ink. He dipped his quill in and wrote his name on one of the pages of the book. The ink sunk in to the pages. "I think maybe it's a diary," he said. They all three stared at the pages, but nothing happened. Just as Harry was going to close it again, something began to appear.

"Hello, Harry Potter. I am Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

Taking the quill and ignoring Hermione's endless suggestions of what he ought to say and how he ought to punctuate it, Harry wrote out the story of how he had come to have the diary.

Hermione and Ron both insisted on taking a turn writing to Tom, and Tom answered their questions diligently. Finally, Harry asked the question that had been on all their minds. "Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"The Chamber was opened in my fifth year." Tom wrote. "I caught the person responsible."

"Who was it?" Harry asked.

"Let me show you." Tom wrote back.

"I don't know, mate. My dad says you should never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brains." Ron said apprehensively.

"I don't think it's a good idea, either. See if he'll just tell you." Hermione added.

Harry looked at them and then at the diary. Throwing caution to the wind, he dipped his quill in his ink and wrote. "Show me." Suddenly the room began to spin as Harry felt the floor fall away from him.

Harry touched ground in Dumbledore's office, except that it was different. Fawkes was gone, as were all the impressive, whirring instruments. A squat man sat behind the desk. A title plaque identified him as Armando Dippet."Where's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked. The man sitting in Dumbledore's chair did not respond. There was a knock at the door and a handsome, dark haired fifth-year boy wearing a shiny prefect's badge entered.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle. What can I do for you, my boy?" Harry understood where he was then; he was in Tom Riddle's memory.

"Professor, I wanted to speak with you about staying at Hogwarts over the summer. I do not wish to return to the muggle orphanage."

"I'm so sorry, Tom, but with the Chamber of Secrets opened, it's just too dangerous. I don't know that we'll even return next term."

Tom continued to cajole the headmaster for a few more minutes, but Dippet stood firm. Finally, Tom rose sadly and swept out of the office. Harry followed behind him. He stopped outside the door of the headmaster's office and stood deep in thought. Finally, he appeared to have come to a decision. He took off resolutely through the hallway. Not far away, Tom nearly bumped into Albus Dumbledore. This Dumbledore was clearly much younger; he had auburn hair and a short beard. His blue eyes still had the twinkle that Harry had come to love. "Shouldn't you be in your dormitory, Tom?" Dumbledore asked. "It's not safe to wander the halls alone these days." Dumbledore stared at Tom as though looking through him. His gaze obviously made Tom nervous.

"I was just going to my dormitory now, Professor," Tom said, flashing Dumbledore a charming smile. Then he made his way down to the basement and waited for what seemed ages to Harry. Finally, Harry heard the distant sound of footsteps coming closer. Tom followed their owner and Harry followed Tom. They ended up in a small room. The owner of the footsteps was kneeling beside a cupboard and talking to something inside of it.

"We've got to get yeh out of here! It's not safe for yeh here anymore." Harry recognized the voice immediately.

"It's over, Hagrid." Tom said. The younger Hagrid stood guiltily, gripping a box in his overlarge hands. "That girl's parents are coming tomorrow. They deserve to know that the thing that killed their daughter has been destroyed."

"Aragog didn't attack nobody!" Hagrid insisted.

"Monsters don't make good pets, Hagrid." Tom said sternly. Just then, the box jerked and Hagrid dropped it. It popped open to reveal something large and hairy with far too many legs. The creature quickly ran across the room and out the door, Hagrid and Tom both running after it. The room seemed to tilt and Harry landed hard on the floor of his own bedroom. It took him a moment to realize he had landed right on top of James, who was holding the diary when Harry popped out of it.

"I found out who opened the diary fifty years ago," Harry told the assembly as he struggled to get off his grunting father and get to his feet. "It was Hagrid."

"That's lovely, Harry, but what, may I ask were you doing in some stranger's diary?" James said firmly.

"It's a long story," Harry said lamely.

James sat resolutely on Harry's bed and folded his arms across his chest. "I've got time. Start talking."

Harry recounted how he had come to be inside the diary and what he had seen while inside.

"Ron, Hermione, would you excuse us for a moment, please?" James asked. Harry felt his heart fall. This did not bode well.

"What were you thinking going in there?" James admonished as soon as Ron and Hermione were out of the room and the door was shut. "What would we have done if we couldn't get you out of there? You have to stop being so reckless. Anything at all could have happened to you in there."

James continued to scold impressively, but Harry was too busy mulling over what he had found out to listen too intently.

"Are you even listening to me?" James's voice finally cut back into his thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes, of course I am."

"Then why did I have to call your name three times before you answered?"

Harry couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he shrugged.

"I'm not going to punish you in front of your friends, but as soon as they're gone, your broomstick is going under lock and key for a week."

"But, Dad, that's not fair!" Harry protested. "I didn't get hurt!"

"Not for lack of trying! Do you have any idea what it was like for me when Ron and Hermione started yelling, and I came up here and they told me you'd been sucked into a book?"

"But I'm fine, Dad. I had everything under control."

James regarded him skeptically. "I think you're confused about what having everything under control means, Son. You have to be more careful. No broomstick for a week, and if you keep arguing with me it will be two."

Harry took a deep breath to swallow back the retort that was on the tip of his tongue. "Fine," he finally said.

"Don't glare at me like that. I only do this because I care about you. It's not like it's fun for me."

"Could you care a little less?" Harry mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry I worried you. Can I go see Ron and Hermione now?"

"Yes, go on." James said, then lowered his voice to a whisper and said conspiratorially, "I think you'll find Ron listening in at the door. He's not a very quiet chap, is he?"

Harry tiptoed to the door and opened it quickly. Ron fell into the room with a shout. James and Harry both laughed as Ron picked himself up off the floor. Then James left the room, the diary in his hand. "I'm going to keep this," he told Ron. "I need to check it out, see if I can figure out who this Tom Riddle is. The name is awfully familiar."

The rest of the weekend moved apace. Whenever they were alone, the children discussed Hagrid and the diary. Ron took Harry's invisibility cloak and sneaked into James's room while Harry kept James occupied in the kitchen and stole the diary back. Hermione remained blissfully ignorant. Ron wanted to question Tom some more, but Harry refused to participate. "I'm not going to risk getting into trouble again. He'll be mad if he knows we stole it. Just put it in your bag and take it back to Hogwarts."

When it was nearly time for them to leave, Harry pulled Ron aside. "I've been thinking, you need to question Hagrid." Harry pushed a small squashy package into his hand. "This is my invisibility cloak. You need it more than I do right now."

"Really, your invisibility cloak? Brilliant!"

"It's only a loan," Harry said quickly. "I want it back as soon as the term ends."

"Sure thing, mate, but can I have fun with it in the meantime? I never did think you put this thing to enough use."

"Do whatever you want with it, but if you lose it or tear it, I'm going to make you belch up slugs for the rest of your life."

Finally, the time had come, and Ron and Hermione stepped into the floo one right after the other. James went through after them to make sure they arrived safely. He was back a moment later. "Good news; the mandrakes have gotten sullen and secretive. Madame Pomfrey will be able to make her restoring draught soon."

"That's great!" Harry said.

"Exploding snap?" James asked Harry, and Harry readily agreed, hoping James had forgotten his promise to lock up Harry's broomstick as soon as they were gone. He hadn't; he locked the broomstick away with a flourish after the game had finished. Harry looked on forlornly.

"Oh, come now, it's not as bad as all that. You look like someone's just died."

"What can I say? I like my broomstick."

"Well, you'll have it back in a week. Now go get ready for bed." Harry did as he was told, but he had so much on his mind he didn't fall asleep until it was nearly morning.

The next day, the auror office found evidence of a plot to assassinate Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic. Things were so busy that Harry hardly ever saw James. He left early and came home late. Harry's lessons with Remus continued, but on Thursday of that week, Remus got sick and couldn't come round. Harry had always known Remus was in poor health, but he didn't realize just how poor until Remus began tutoring him. He had an episode every three or four weeks, it seemed. Thursday and Friday passed slowly for Harry, alone in the house without even his broomstick for entertainment. James was always apologetic when he came home late, but he was so tired he just ate dinner and went straight to bed. It was two weeks later before they finally ferreted out the plot and arrested everyone involved. Only then did James finally remember about the diary.

"Do you know what happened to that diary I took from Ron?" James asked sternly at breakfast.

"No idea," Harry said, hoping he didn't look as guilty as he felt. He had never been a particularly good liar, especially when his father was the one he was lying to.

"Harry, don't lie to me." James said, annoyed. "You really don't want to lose my trust."

"Fine, Ron took it with him." Harry said, "but please don't be mad at him."

"Why ever would I be mad at someone for stealing a dangerous, and possibly dark, object out from under the nose of an auror?" James asked sarcastically. "And what was your role in all this, might I ask?"

"I gave him the invisibility cloak." Harry confessed, wisely deciding not to push when his father was in a mood like this.

"I see, and now you can just give it to me for safekeeping. You can have it back when I think I can trust you with it again."

"He's still got it. He took it back to Hogwarts with him." Harry said, dropping his eyes to stare at his bacon.

"And was that your idea or his?"

"Mine." Harry mumbled.

"Very well. I've got to go up there to get the diary back anyway. I'll just get the cloak while I'm at it."

"Can I come with you? I'd like to see everyone."

"Absolutely not." James said. "You stay here and do your lessons. Remus will be here soon, and you'd best behave for him."

"I always behave for him," Harry protested. "It's not worth it not to."

"Maybe I should have a talk with him and find out how he does it." James said , the corners of his mouth twitching as though he were trying not to smile. He apparently won the battle with his sense of humour because after that he turned his very stern gaze on Harry. "I'm very disappointed in you. You don't know anything about that diary. It could be anything. You know better."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, chastened. He wanted very badly to tell his dad that it had all been Ron's idea in the first place, but he was no rat. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"See that it doesn't," James snapped.

They ate their breakfast in silence until Remus appeared. Then James got up and bid them both goodbye. He caressed Harry's cheek gently before he left. "I do love you, you know. Even when you make me mental."

"I love you, too, Dad. Have a good day at work."

"What was that about?" Remus asked after James had apparated out of the dining room.

"Don't ask," Harry replied dejectedly. Remus shrugged and sat down at the table to start Harry's lessons.

James returned that evening in a foul mood. "Someone stole the diary from the dormitory." James informed Harry. "Ron says he has no idea who, and I believe him. Whoever did it really trashed his things. I felt so bad for him I let him keep the cloak."

Harry rushed up the stairs to fetch his mirror and call Ron, who was as morose as Harry had expected him to be.

"I didn't even have a chance to talk to Tom again." Ron said sadly. "What a waste."

"And you don't have any idea who could have done it?"

"No," Ron said. "Do you reckon it could have been the Heir?"

"I doubt it," Harry said. "What would the Heir of Slytherin want with a diary? Oh, oh no!"

"What?" Ron asked.

"If the diary disappeared from the dormitory, it had to have been a Gryiffindor who took it. No one else knows that password!"

Ron and Harry stared at one another, both taking in the implications of this revelation.

"Well, that certainly changes things," Ron said bluntly.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "It certainly does."


	12. Sackings and Spiders

Two weeks before the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor quidditch match, Harry began working on his dad to let him go to Hogwarts and watch it. At first his dad was reluctant, but Harry recruited Sirius and even Remus onto his side and so James agreed, provided Harry promised not to go anywhere by himself. Harry gave his assurances and ran off to get his mirror and tell Ron. There had been no more attacks at Hogwarts, which only seemed to convince everyone that Harry really had been the Heir, since the attacks stopped as soon as he was gone. Harry found that he didn't care as much now that he wasn't under the constant glares of the other students.

When the day of the match finally arrived, Harry woke James up at the crack of dawn, he was so eager to get there. James made him wait until a more respectable hour. Harry thought the time would never come, but finally it did. As soon as they arrived in Sirius's quarters, Harry asked if he could go to the Gryffindor common room and see Ron and Hermione. James agreed provided Harry would allow himself to be escorted there and not leave again until James arrived to fetch him. Harry protested only a very little bit. He recognized a good deal when he saw one.

"Professor Sprout says the mandrakes threw a wild party in the greenhouse on Wednesday. As soon as they start trying to move into one another's pots, they'll be ready and things will go back to normal around here." Ron told Harry after Harry had diligently said hello to everyone and been clapped on the back so many times he thought his spine might break and commiserated with the quidditch team that he wouldn't be able to play.

"But we still don't know who opened the chamber." Harry said glumly.

"What are you going to take next year, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"I dunno. I'm not really excited about anything."

"I'm excited about everything. I can't decide. This is really important, you know. What classes we take now will determine what sort of career we can have. What if I decide not to take arithmancy and then that turns out to be my life's calling?" Hermione fretted.

"She's been like this ever since they told us we had to pick new classes. What are you going to take?" Ron muttered to Harry.

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I don't even know if I'll be here."

"You have to be here. You can't leave me alone with her anymore. She's mental." Ron whispered, jerking his head toward Hermione.

"I'm not mental. I just happen to care about my education. And if you're going to talk about someone when they're right here, you should at least try to be quiet." Hermione snapped.

"I was trying to be quiet. That's what all the whispering was about. Serves you right for eavesdropping." Ron shot back.

Harry started laughing. "I've missed you two so much." He told them. Their tension eased after that.

Then Harry head something familiar.

"_Come, let me rip you. I haven't eaten in so long._"

Harry must have reacted, because Ron asked him what was wrong. Hermione jerked her head out of the book she had been buried in.

"I've just heard that voice again."

Hermione gasped. "I've just had an idea! I have to go to the library!" She got up and ran out of the common room, almost knocking James over as she exited the portrait hole.

"Come on, gents, it's almost time for the match!" James said cheerfully.

Harry hated that he wasn't able to play. The Gryffindor team had found a new seeker, a fourh-year boy called Matthew Whitlock, but Fred and George claimed he was rubbish compared to Harry. Harry tried not to show how much this pleased him. James, Ron, and Harry joined Sirius, Remus and Hagrid and trekked up to the stands. Hermione was nowhere to be found. Ron reckoned she'd join them when she had satisfied her curiosity.

Harry had never actually seen a Gryffindor quidditch match as he had always been playing. He was rather excited about it, and certainly much less nervous than when he was playing, but it turned out he didn't get to see one today either. No sooner had Madame Hooch blown her whistle to star the match than Professor McGonagall came running onto the pitch and stopped the game. "There has been another attack. Everyone return to your common rooms at once. You are not to leave until your head of house gives you permission to do so." She announced to the assembled crowd, her voice magically amplified.

"You have got to be joking," Harry muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" James asked.

"There hasn't been an attack in all the time I've been gone, and the day I step back into the school there's another one? Everyone's really going to think I'm Slytherin's Heir now."

James put an arm protectively around Harry's shoulder as they made their way down the stairs. When they got to the bottom, they were met by Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I'd like you two to come with me, please. James, Albus would like to speak to you."

"I didn't do anything!" Harry said loudly.

"Of course he didn't. He hasn't been alone all day." James said quickly.

"No one thinks you did," Professor McGonagall assured them, but students gave them a wide berth in the corridors. McGonagall led them to the hospital wing, where the beds were beginning to fill up with petrified students. McGonagall led them to a bed in the corner. "I'm sorry, boys," she said gently as she pulled back the curtain to reveal Hermione, petrified, a look of horror still frozen on her face. "She was found next to a Ravenclaw prefect who was holding a mirror. Do you boys know anything about this at all?"

They both shook their heads. They couldn't take their eyes off Hermione's face. "She told us she was going to the library. That's all she said."

"I'll go tell Professor Dumbledore. You two stay here. Auror Potter will come fetch you and escort you back to the common room." Then she turned and marched out of the room, her heals clicking loudly on the tile as she went.

"Have you had a chance to talk to Hagrid yet?" Harry asked Ron.

"No, Hermione thought maybe we should wait and see if there was another attack."

"You have to talk to him."

Ron nodded, "I'll go tonight."

"Take the mirror so I can at least know what's happening."

"I will, mate."

"I wish I could come with you, but I doubt my dad will let me out of his sight tonight."

"It's all right, I've got it well sorted."

They sat in silence staring at Hermione until James appeared behind them and put a comforting hand on each of their shoulders. "Madame Pomfrey says the mandrakes are almost ready. She'll be right as rain again soon." He said gently. Harry and Ron both nodded mutely. "Come on," James said, "Let's get you back to your common room." James and Harry dropped Ron off at the Gryffindor common room and Harry felt a pang as he watched his friend disappear into the portrait hole.

"You'll be glad you're coming home with me after I tell you all about the new security measures. No one's going to having any fun at Hogwarts anytime soon." As they walked to the Astronomy tower, James explained that the curfew had been moved to 6PM and that students would have to be escorted to their classes by teachers. All clubs and teams had been disbanded until further notice. "Dumbledore's afraid they're going to have to close the school." James finally admitted. "He's asked the auror office to come in and investigate."

When they arrived at the Astronomy tower, they found Sirius sitting on his couch looking drawn.

"Hermione is one of my favorite students." Sirius said. "She does half my teaching for me."

"I thought I was your favorite student." Harry said.

"You are, but she's in the top three. Right below Fred and George."

"Me, Fred, and George make three, Sirius."

"Fred and George only count as one, Pronglet. Haven't you met them?"

"I thought you weren't supposed to have favorites," James said.

"Everyone has favorites. We just try not to let it show. I don't let it show, do I?" Sirius asked, turning to Harry, who immediately shook his head. Sirius placed great importance on his job. It was vital to him that he do it well, and besides that Harry wasn't thick enough to tell Sirius if he went too easy on Harry in class.

"Who's McGonagall's favorite?" Harry asked.

"I take it back." Sirius said. "Everyone has favorites except McGonagall. You'll be glad to know you're Lockhart's favorite, though."

"Ugh, why would that make me glad?"

"I don't know. I clearly wasn't thinking."

"Something new and different for you." James said with a smile.

"You'd be the one to know," Sirius shot back.

"We've got to get home," James said. "You should come with us, Padfoot. It would do you good to get away from here."

"All right, then." Sirius agreed. Harry smiled. At least the rest of the day promised some fun.

After dinner, Harry excused himself to go talk to Ron. He caught Ron just as Ron was donning the invisibility cloak and planning to sneak out. Ron put the mirror in his pocket so Harry could still hear what was happening and set off. As soon as he got to Hagrid's hut, Ron pulled the mirror out and held it up so Harry could see what was happening. He knocked on the door and Hagrid opened it, holding a shotgun in his hands.

"Oh, it's yeh." Hagrid said. "Yeh shouldn't be out here. S'dangerous."

"Why do you have a gun?" Ron asked.

"In case of trouble. Get in here."

Hagrid grabbed Ron by the neck of his robes and pulled him into the hut, shutting the door quickly behind them. Ron quickly found a seat and sat down. He handed the mirror to Hagrid so Hagrid could say hello to Harry. Just then there was a knock at the door. Hagrid handed the mirror back and took the shotgun. "Get under the cloak and go hide in the corner." Hagrid ordered in a voice that was not to be disobeyed. Ron did so immediately. As soon as he was settled in the corner, Hagrid opened the door. Ron held the mirror up again so Harry could see. As soon as Hagrid opened the door, Dumbledore came in looking not at all perturbed to see Hagrid holding a gun. He was followed by an important looking man in a lime green bowler hat that Harry recognized as Cornelius Fudge. There were also a couple of men that Harry recognized as aurors who worked with his father.

"Hagrid, we've come to take you to Azkaban." Fudge explained.

"You know very well that Hagrid is not the Heir of Slytherin," Dumbledore said, sounding angrier than Harry had ever heard him.

"But I have to do _something_," Fudge whined. "He was the one who opened the chamber last time."

"I had nothin' to do with that!" Hagrid said. "I was framed!"

Just then there was another knock at the door. Dumbledore answered it and in walked a blond man whose gray eyes glittered with malice. Harry recognized the familiar pale, pointed face and guessed it was Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. Harry's dad was one of those people who seemed to get on well with just about everyone. There were very few people in the world that Harry had ever heard him speak ill of. Lucius Malfoy was one of them. James knew that Lucius was a dark wizard, but he was too smart and too well-connected to ever get caught. Harry had heard James telling Sirius once that he would like nothing better than to catch Lucius on something, even if it was just a technicality, and send him to Azkaban, even if it was only for a day. But he could never make anything stick.

Lucius greeted the minister warmly and Dumbledore coldly. He did not greet Hagrid at all. Hagrid didn't look like he minded too much. "Albus, I have here a petition signed by the school governors ordering your immediate dismissal from the position of headmaster and your immediate removal from the school grounds."

Dumbledore stared at Lucius for a moment before he spoke. "Very well, Lucius, I shall abide by the wishes of the governors, but I think you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Harry thought he saw Dumbledore give the corner where Ron stood an almost-imperceptible glance, but he could never be sure.

"How touching." Lucius said scathingly. Dumbledore rose to his full height and strode out of the hut, followed by Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge, leaving the aurors alone and advancing on Hagrid.

"If someone wanted to know who the true Heir of Slytherin is, they oughtta follow the spiders." Hagrid said, far too loudly. The aurors looked at one another, confused. "And someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm gone." Then he went willingly with the aurors, closing the door and leaving Ron alone in the hut.

"Follow the spiders? What do you think he meant by that?" Ron asked after a long silence had passed.

"Haven't you seen them?" Harry asked.

"I don't really like spiders much, mate. I try not to pay too much attention to them. I prefer to believe they don't exist until I'm proven wrong."

"I've saw them a couple of times in the fall, leaving the castle in a straight line. I thought it was odd, but I'd forgotten about it until just now. I never knew they'd act that way."

Ron shuddered. "I won't have anything to do with spiders, mate. I won't."

"All right, calm down then. We'll figure something out. I can't believe they sacked Dumbledore. I bet there's an attack every day now."

"I'm going back to the castle now." Ron said. "I'll let you know if anything important happens."

Harry put the mirror away and went downstairs to watch Sirius and James playing wizard's chess. He was so quiet James finally asked him what was wrong. "I've just spoken to Ron," Harry said. "Dumbledore's been sacked and Hagrid's been taken to Azkaban." Harry left out the details of how Ron came to know these things.

"WHAT?" James and Sirius both roared in unison. Sirius leapt to his feet, upsetting the chessboard. "I've got to get back." He said, then he disapparated without even saying goodbye.

James bent to pick up the board. "Help me out, here, Harry," he said. "He only knocked the board over because he was losing, you know."

"Dad, what's going to happen to Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. I'm going to try to do everything I can to get him out of there. I don't know how successful I'll be. What are they thinking sacking Dumbledore? He's probably the only reason the monster's not openly stalking the corridors."

Harry and James played chess until bedtime, but neither of them were focused on the game. When it came time for bed, Harry retired to his room and passed another sleepless night.

The next morning in the middle of his transfiguration lesson, Ron called from the mirror. Harry pulled it out only to be immediately passed to Justin Finch-Fletchley who wanted to apologize for suspecting Harry. "I know you would never have attacked Hermione." Justin said, whispering so he wouldn't get caught.

"I thought that might make you feel better," Ron said after Justin had handed the mirror back. Then Ron had to leave quickly because Professor Sprout had just snapped at him to pay attention. Even that small apology did wonders for Harry's spirits. He was still worried about all his friends at Hogwarts, as well as Dumbledore and Hagrid, but it seemed a little more bearable now. He heard from Ron again that evening.

"Hagrid's mental!" Ron shouted into the mirror, breathing heavily with a look of sheer terror on his face. "Follow the spiders, he says. Follow the spiders!"

"Ron, calm down, what's happened?" Harry asked.

Ron told Harry that he had decided to follow the spiders after all. He followed them out to the forbidden forest where he stumbled into a clearing that was full of spiders the size of horses. There he met Aragog, whose name Harry recognized from Tom Riddle's memory. Aragog insisted he was not the monster attacking students, but refused to tell what the monster was, as it was the mortal enemy of spiders and they would not speak its name. It also told Ron that he didn't attack the student who died, as she was found in a bathroom and all Aragog ever saw was the cupboard where Hagrid kept him. Finally, the spiders told Ron they were going to eat him and were just about to do so when the Flying Ford Anglia came into the clearing and rescued him. "It's turned wild," Ron said. "It was the strangest thing."

Harry listened to the story, his own heart beating fast when he learned how close he had come to losing his best friend. Something prickled at his memory as he listened to Ron recount the conversation he'd had with Aragog.

"Ron" he said suddenly, interrupting Ron's third description of the spiders. "You said the girl died in a bathroom?"

"Yes, so?" Ron said thickly.

"What if it was Moaning Myrtle?"

"Harry, you're a genius!"


	13. Interesting Interviews

Finally the day came that Remus told Harry it was time to start thinking about exams.

"Exams?" Harry sputtered. "I have to take exams?"

"Yes, of course you have to take exams. I need to know how you've been doing."

"I don't want to take exams!" Harry protested.

"You'd be taking them if you were at Hogwarts."

"Well, I'm not at Hogwarts, am I?" Harry asked, his voice rising angrily.

"If you don't drop your attitude, I will make sure you regret it." Remus said quietly. Unlike Harry's dad, who shouted when angry, Remus got quieter and quieter until his voice was nearly a whisper. Harry always found it unsettling. That coupled with Remus's complete willingness to subject Harry to particularly miserable punishments made Harry very wary of pushing him too far. When their lessons first started, Harry attempted to appeal Remus's punishments to James, but James obstinately refused to rescue him, so eventually Harry had given up even trying. The last time he had argued too much with Remus during a lesson, he ended up spending his Saturday cleaning out Remus's basement. It looked and smelled like he'd been keeping some sort of wild animal in there, but he wouldn't answer Harry's questions about what it may have been. Harry was not at all eager to repeat the experience

"Fine, I'll take the exams." Harry finally said.

"And?" Remus asked expectantly.

"And?" Harry repeated.

"And you're sorry for speaking to me like that."

Harry wasn't the least bit sorry, and he very much wanted to tell Remus that, but he wasn't suicidal. "I'm sorry for speaking to you like that," Harry parroted dutifully. "It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't. Now, I think we should follow the same schedule Hogwarts does. You'll have two exams a day, with a day off in between each to study. Charms and Transfiguration on the first day, Herbology and Potions on the second day, and Defense Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy on the third day. I've already arranged with Sirius to come and give you a practical Astronomy exam."

"Excellent," Harry said. "I haven't seen him in forever!"

"He's been very busy at Hogwarts. They've had all the teachers working overtime trying to keep everyone safe. But that's neither here nor there. We have work to do getting you ready for these exams."

"But you're the one writing them." Harry said.

"Point being?"

"Are you really going to write exams I can't pass?"

"I'm going to write exams that are equivalent to what you would be given if you were at Hogwarts. Whether or not you pass them is up to you. Let's get to work."

"Has anyone ever told you what a pain you are?" Harry joked.

"Yes. Between your dad and Sirius, I've been well-informed of that." Remus said, lifting an eyebrow.

"It's a good thing for you I love you so much. Otherwise, I'd throw ink pellets at you whenever your back is turned."

"Duly noted." Remus replied casually. "Now let's get started." Harry opened his book, but instead of starting the lesson, Remus asked Harry if he ever threw ink pellets at his teachers at Hogwarts.

"Only Lockhart," Harry admitted. "And maybe once or twice at Quirrell."

"Perfectly understandable." Remus said with a wry smile.

"I've been tempted to do it to Snape, but I was always too afraid of him."

"You'll want to continue to fight that temptation." Remus said evenly. "The three seconds of pleasure wouldn't be worth what he'd do to you. All right, to work now. We've got a lot of ground to cover today."

Remus kept Harry so busy studying that he barely had time to catch up with Ron, but when they did manage to speak, it was obvious that nothing new had happened. The teachers were watching everyone so closely that Ron hadn't even had a chance to speak to Myrtle. The day after the last attack, Sirius confiscated the invisibility cloak for good measure and returned it to James. Harry tried to talk James into giving it back to him, Harry, but James decided to hold on to it. Harry hadn't gone looking for it, though he was confident he could find it if he needed to. His dad had never been overly creative at hiding things.

The Friday evening before his exams were to start, Ron called him frantically in the mirror. Harry went to his bedroom to have some privacy.

"Ginny's been kidnapped. She's in the chamber!" Ron shouted to Harry.

"Slow down, Ron, tell me everything from the beginning," Harry said, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt.

It turned out Ron had given Lockhart the slip to go and question Myrtle but had instead been caught by McGonagall.

Harry paled. "What did she do to you, mate?" He asked.

"Nothing. I lied to her, told her I was going to visit Hermione, and she bought it, but then while I was there I saw Hermione had something in her hand. It was a page from a book. She figured out what the monster is. It's a basilisk."

"A basilisk?" Harry asked.

"It's a great snake." Ron explained impatiently. "And it's got my sister!"

"How did it get your sister?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. I went to the staff room to show them what Hermione had found and they said Ginny had been taken. There's a big message on the wall that says her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever. They're closing the school tomorrow and sending everyone home. I don't know what to do! I can't just leave her in there!"

Harry thought for a moment. They had to question Myrtle, but they couldn't do that without the invisibility cloak, and Harry could think of only one way to get the invisibility cloak to Hogwarts. "Make sure the Gryffindor common room is empty at midnight. I'm coming with the cloak. At least we can try to find something out from Myrtle."

"Fine, I'll take care of it. I'll set off a dungbomb if I have to." Ron said, then a moment later. "Harry, I'm scared."

"I know. So am I. But we'll think of something. Ginny will be fine." Harry said reassuringly, then they said goodbye.

Harry went down to the living room where his father was reading the paper. "Dad, I think I'd fancy some ice cream," he said.

"We haven't got any," James replied.

"Could you go get some? Please?" Harry asked, flashing his best smile.

James lowered the paper and smiled back. "All right. Don't say I never did anything for you. What kind do you want?"

"Peppermint, please." Harry said. As soon as James was out the door, Harry went into his bedroom to search for the cloak. He finally found it at the top of the closet and took it to his own room, where he stashed it beneath his mattress. He was at the kitchen table studying and trying to look casual when James returned with the ice cream. After they had each had a bowl of ice cream, Harry excused himself to his room. He reckoned the less time he spent with his dad tonight the less likely he was to accidentally give something away. He pretended to be sleeping long enough for his dad to look in on him and then he stared at the clock and waited for midnight. When it finally arrived, he changed out of his pajamas and put on the cloak. Opening his door quietly, he sneaked down the stairs. "Gryffindor common room," he told the fireplace, throwing in a handful of floo powder. He stepped out of the grate into the familiar red and gold room. Ron was waiting for him, looking pale and drawn.

"This is the paper Hermione had," Ron told him, handing over a page that had clearly been torn out of a book. There was a picture of a snake at the top of the page and beneath that it said, "The basilisk, king of the serpents. Of all the creatures to roam the earth, none is more treacherous than the basilisk. Its venom is instant death, and it can live for hundreds of years. The crow of the rooster is deadly to it. Spiders flee from it, as it is their mortal enemy. Looking directly into its eyes is fatal, while an indirect glance will cause petrification." Underneath that, in Hermione's small, cramped scrawl, was written the word, "pipes".

"That sounds like our monster, all right. I suppose it makes sense that it's a snake. That's why I'm the only one who's been hearing it." Harry said.

"It's been using pipes to get around the school," Ron added. "That's why no one's seen it."

"And no one's died because no one's seen it straight on. Mrs. Norris saw it through that puddle of water I fell in. Colin Creevey saw it through his camera. Justin saw it through Nearly Headless Nick. Nick must have got the full brunt of the blast, but since he couldn't very well die again, he was just petrified as well."

"And Hermione and that Ravenclaw?"

"McGonagall said they found a mirror in the Ravenclaw's hand. Hermione probably came out of the library and started warning everyone she saw to look around corners with a mirror."

"That's Hermione for you," Ron said.

Harry nodded, then they threw on the invisibility cloak and left the common room. It was slow going in the corridors. Professors were pacing around, even at this late hour. Harry felt a pang of guilt when he saw Sirius. He'd be so worried if he knew what Harry was up to. As it was, he knew he was taking an awful risk, but it was worth it to him. Besides, he was sure he'd be back in his own bed before he was missed. On the second floor, they happened across a heated argument between McGonagall and Lockhart. Lockhart was insisting he could take on the monster himself any time he liked.

"Well, then, why don't you?" McGonagall snapped.

"I will," he said, looking affronted, then he left for his office.

"Maybe we should tell him about the pipes," Ron suggested after both Lockhart and McGonagall had gone. Harry nodded and they changed direction, following Lockhart to his office. Once there, they threw off the invisibility cloak. Lockhart started, but recovered quickly.

"Harry, my boy, I thought you'd been sent home. Couldn't stay away from Old Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, eh? Come to fight the monster yourself and get all the glory?"

"We heard what you said to Professor McGonagall." Harry said bluntly. Lockhart's face fell. "We thought you'd like to know that we've figured out what the creature is."

"Oh," Lockhart said, "Well, I won't be fighting it. I have to be somewhere, you see. I'm a very important wizard."

"Where could you possibly have to be in the middle of the night?" Ron asked, incredulous.

"I have to... well, fine! If you must know, I'm a fraud. I didn't do any of the things my books say I did."

"You don't say!" Harry said sarcastically. "I never could have guessed that. Ron, could you have guessed that?"

"Never. I'm completely gobsmacked." Ron replied, his tone equally caustic. The irony was lost on Lockhart.

"I started out as a biographer, and then I realized that I was a much better product than any of the people I was interviewing, so I started casting memory charms on them after I'd interviewed them and passing their accomplishments off as my own. That's the one spell I pride myself on: memory charms. And now I shall have to cast one on the two of you," Lockhart explained, lifting his wand. "Say goodbye to your memories, boys."

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted. Lockhart's wand flew out of his hand, and Harry caught it deftly and handed it to Ron. They both pointed their wands at Lockhart. "You're coming with us," Harry said.

"Why?" Lockhart asked, deflated.

"Because we can't have you running off and telling everyone what we're up to." Ron and Harry went back under the invisibility cloak and Harry put his wand firmly in Lockhart's back. Together, the three of them marched to Myrtle's bathroom.

"Myrtle, how did you die?" Ron asked when they arrived. Harry kept his wand on Lockhart just to be safe.

Myrtle straightened herself up and looked pleased with herself. "Oh, it was dreadful!" She told them. "It was right in that cubicle. I was in there crying because Olive Hornby was making fun of my glasses when I heard someone come in and say something funny. Another language, I think. I thought it was odd, but I also remember it was a boy's voice, so I came out to tell him that boys aren't allowed in a girl's bathroom and then... I died." She finished impressively.

"How?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. I just remember a pair of big yellow eyes. They were right over there," she pointed lazily, "by that sink. It took them hours to find my body. I know, I waited for them. Olive Hornby was the one who found it. She didn't forget that until her dying day, I made sure of that. I haunted her for the longest time, but finally she complained to the ministry and they told me I had to stop, so I came back here to haunt my toilet."

Harry made his way over to the sink Myrtle had indicated, bringing Lockhart with him. He tried the faucet, but it didn't work. "It's never worked," Myrtle offered. "It didn't even work in my day. You'd think someone would have come to fix it by now."

Harry inspected it more closely and saw a small snake engraved on the side of the faucet. "Ron, look at this," he called.

Ron came over and looked. "Say something in parseltongue," he suggested.

"Open up," Harry said obligingly. Nothing happened.

"That was English. Try again," Ron said.

Harry squinted at the snake until it almost looked as though it were wriggling. "Open up," he repeated. This time, the sink sank into the wall to reveal a large hole. "You first," Harry told Lockhart. Lockhart whimpered.

"Don't be such a baby," Ron said, disgusted, and gave Lockhart a push. Lockhart screamed the whole way down. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed anything so much in my life," Ron said. Harry nodded his agreement before jumping into the hole himself. Ron came soon after.

They were in a large tunnel. "Close your eyes if you see anything move," Harry instructed them. They walked forward, Lockhart whimpering and quaking in fear.

"Some wizard you are," Ron said coldly.

Just then something caught Harry's eye. "There's something there," he whispered and closed his eyes, listening for the sound of movement. When nothing happened, he risked opening his eye a slit, then all the way. Finally, he opened both eyes and tapped Ron on the shoulder. It wasn't the basilisk he had seen, but a snakeskin as big as a small hill. Ron and Harry walked closer to it with Lockhart in tow. "Can you imagine how big the snake would have to be if this is its skin?" Harry asked. Ron nodded just as Lockhart quickly grabbed Ron's wand. He scampered away and Ron took off after him, pulling up short when Lockhart turned the wand on him.

"Don't either of you move," he said. "I shall be the hero again when I go up and tell all the staff how I found the Chamber of Secrets. Tragically, we shall be too late to save the two of you from losing your minds when you saw what the basilisk did to that poor girl. Obliviate!"

Harry shut his eyes waiting for the spell to hit him. Instead, it ricocheted off the ceiling. Rocks started falling and Harry ducked to avoid them. It was over quickly, and when Harry looked up, he was completely blocked in. Ron and Lockhart were on the other side. "Ron, are you all right?" Harry called.

"I'm fine," came Ron's voice. "My wand must have backfired again. Lockhart's a mess. He's obliviated himself."

"I'm going to go forward. See if you can get any of these rocks clear."

"Be careful, Harry," Ron called.

"I'm always careful." Harry called back. He turned and trudged through the tunnel, his senses alert for any sign of danger. Finally, he came to a door with snakes carved into it. They were so lifelike he didn't have to try very hard at all this time to imagine they were real.

"Open up," he ordered the door. It slid aside to reveal a large room. Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside.


	14. Tales and Troubles

Harry stared at the ground as he entered the room, ready to close his eyes on a moment's notice. Nothing moved in the room except him, so he screwed up his courage and lifted his head to look around. He was in a massive, domed room with snake statues in even intervals against the walls. All the statues had their fangs bared. "_Salazar Slytherin must have been a real piece of work_," Harry thought to himself. At the opposite end of the room was a statue of the man himself, and at his feet was a small, pale, red-headed figure. Harry ran to her. "Ginny, are you all right?" He asked. Ginny did not respond, but she was alive. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He thought he had never been so relieved in his life. He was trying to lift her up when he saw movement and quickly shut his eyes. When nothing happened, he opened them again and looked to to see what had moved. Standing there watching him was Tom Riddle. "Tom, am I glad to see you. You have to help me! We have to get her out of here." Tom did not move. "Come on, Tom, help me. Quickly, before the basilisk comes. It's me, Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter," Tom said pompously. "You can't help her. Both of you are going to die here." Tom began walking slowly toward Harry. Harry followed his movements with his eyes.

"What do you mean? It's not to late. She's still alive. We can save her. Just help me."

Tom was at his side now. He reached out and took Harry's wand. Harry was so surprised at the grab he didn't react. Oh well, it didn't matter. "You grab her feet. I'll get her arms. My friend is waiting for me by the entrance. He can help me from there."

"Harry Potter," Tom repeated. "I've been very interested in meeting you."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you the chamber was opened in my fifth year. I preserved myself in that diary so that I could bear witness to what happened that year."

"Yes, I know all that." Harry told him impatiently. "Now hurry up and help me."

"She told me all about you, you know. She told me everything. She told me about how her brothers tease her and how she has a crush on you, but you won't give her the time of day."

"That's not true," Harry protested. "I--" but then he stopped. It was true. He knew Ginny fancied him and he had mostly ignored her all year. He'd have to make it up to her somehow once they got out of here.

"The more she told me, the stronger I got, feeding on her memories and emotions. Eventually, I got strong enough to pour some of myself back into her, making her attack the mudbloods and the squib's cat. It was great fun reading what she wrote. 'I don't know what's happening, Tom. All Hagrid's chickens have been killed and I've got feathers on my robes.' or 'I woke up in the dormitory with red paint on my hands. There's been another attack and I think I'm the one doing it.' She was so easy to manipulate. But then I got tired of her and decided I wanted you."

"Me?" Harry asked.

"Yes, she told me all about how you defeated Lord Voldemort when you were a baby, and then again last year. I was very interested when suddenly you began speaking to me. Then I was most disappointed when you didn't come back, and then suddenly she had the diary again. By then, I was strong enough to make her write her own farewell on the wall and come down here. I was hoping you'd be stupid enough to come after her. I see you have met my expectations. Tell me, Harry, how did you manage to defeat the most powerful dark wizard of all time?"

"Dumbledore reckons it was because my mother sacrificed herself to save me." Harry said cautiously. He couldn't make his mind keep up with what Tom was telling him. He felt almost as though he were swimming through very murky water and not sure which direction would lead him to the surface again.

"Oh, I see, so it wasn't anything you did at all. You defeated Voldemort by cowering beneath the robes of greater witches and wizards."

"Why do you care about Voldemort? He was after your time."

"Lord Voldemort is my past, present, and future," Tom said. Then he lifted Harry's wand and wrote the words "Tom Marvolo Riddle" in the air. They stayed there, glowing, before rearranging themselves to spell out "I am Lord Voldemort". "I was already using the title Lord Voldemort amongst my friends by the time I made this diary. I was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. I framed that great oaf Hagrid so the school would stay open. But then that fool Dumbledore watched me so closely I could never open it again. So I preserved my sixteen year old self in this diary so that some day someone could finish my work, Salazar Slytherin's work. I am the greatest wizard who ever lived."

"No, you're not. Dumbledore's the greatest wizard who ever lived. Even when you were at the height of your power, you were still too much of a coward to attack Dumbledore. Defenseless women and children was more your style."

Tom's face contorted in rage. Speaking in parseltongue, he called the basilisk. Harry heard the sound of stone crunching and then a sickening slithering. "Goodbye, Harry Potter," Tom said as Harry shut his eyes tight. Just then a beautiful note rang out. Harry opened his eyes to see Fawkes the phoenix fly through the chamber with the Hogwarts sorting hat in his claws. He dropped it over Harry's head and Harry caught it swiftly. Then Fawkes landed on his shoulder.

"Dumbledore is a greater wizard than me, you say, and yet this is the best he can send you." Tom mocked.

Fawkes took off and began to fly about the room. Harry ran, hoping he could make it back and that Ron had cleared the tunnel out enough for him to get through, but not enough for the basilisk. Just then the basilisk hissed and screamed. So did Tom. Harry stopped short and turned around. Fawkes had pecked out the basilisk's eyes. Blood was dripping from the sockets, kicking up steam wherever it hit the ground.

"No!" Tom yelled, then in parseltongue he ordered, "You can still smell him. Sniff him out and kill him."

Frantic, Harry put the sorting hat on his head. "Help me!" He told it.

The hat said nothing, but Harry felt something hard hit the top of his head. He pulled off the hat to find it was a sword with large rubies in the hilt. The basilisk was almost upon him. He circled, then snapped. Harry gripped the sword tightly and rammed it into the top of the basilisk's mouth. It screamed and as it did, Harry realized he was screaming, too. An agonizing pain ripped through his shoulder. One of the basilisk's fangs had pierced him. It still stuck out of his shoulder. He pulled the fang out and stumbled away, reeling. Tom touched the basilisk tenderly, mourning for the monster.

"It doesn't matter, Harry Potter. You're going to die here." Fawkes flew over to Harry and began crying hot tears onto his shoulder. "Even Dumbledore's bird knows you can't be saved. Look. It's crying for you."

Harry sat down hard against the wall and waited to die. His shoulder burned as if on fire. He thought of his father; this was going to kill him. At least he'd have the marauders to help him through. As Harry waited, he slowly started to feel better. If this was dying, he decided, it wasn't so bad.

"What are you doing?" Tom yelled. "Get away from him! I can't believe I forgot that phoenix tears can cure basilisk venom. Oh well, no matter." Tom lifted Harry's wand. "I shall finish what I started."

Before he could say anything, Fawkes grabbed the diary and dropped it in Harry's lap. Taking the basilisk fang, he stabbed it through the center. It screamed, then began bleeding a large puddle of ink. Tom screamed too, fading away into nothing. Harry's wand dropped to the floor. Harry sat there a moment, breathing in the sweet air and marveling that he was still alive. Suddenly Ginny began to stir. He picked up his wand and went to her.

"Harry?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm here. The basilisk is dead. You're safe now."

"Oh Harry, I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny squeaked and then put her head on Harry's shoulder and sobbed.

"Maybe you won't." Harry told her, patting her on the back reassuringly. Then he helped her to stand and, together, they made their way to the entrance. Harry grabbed the sword and the hat on the way out. Fawkes perched on Ginny's shoulder and sang in her ear.

"Ginny!" Ron yelled when he saw her. "Where's the basilisk?"

"I've killed it." Harry said.

"By yourself?" Ron asked.

"Not exactly. I'll explain it all later."

Ron had made a hole large enough for Ginny and Harry to go through. Harry helped Ginny and then scrambled through himself. Ron held Ginny in a tight embrace until she started fighting to get him off of her. "I never thought I'd see you again," he told her, "I'm allowed to hug you until I'm finished, and you'll just have to put up with it."

"Oh, hello," Lockhart said. Harry turned to look at him. His eyes had an oddly blank look. "This is an odd sort of place. Where are we?"

"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry told him.

"Oh," Lockhart said, "Is that in London?"

They backtracked to the entrance but then met a conundrum. "How are we going to get back up?" Ron asked. Fawkes sang and flew in front of Harry, where he hovered.

"Of course!" Harry said, "Dumbledore said phoenixes are very strong. Everyone grab his tail." They all did so, and Fawkes lifted them easily into the air.

"Whee!" Lockhart said. "Oh this is great fun! Almost like magic!"

"Didn't you die?" Myrtle asked when they landed back in the bathroom. "I was hoping you would. I was going to share my toilet with you and everything."

"I think Myrtle fancies you," Ron teased as they left the bathroom.

"Shut it," Harry said. They followed Fawkes to Dumbledore's office where Dumbledore was waiting for them, along with the Wealeys. Ginny ran to them sobbing, and Mrs. Weasley gathered her in her arms.

"Oh, you brave, brave men," Dumbledore praised. "However did you manage to rescue her?" Harry told them the whole story, everything that had happened since Dobby first appeared to him last summer. With a skill gleaned from years of making mischief with Sirius behind his dad's back, he left out the parts about Ginny and the diary. They listened intently, gasping at all the right places. Ginny sat mutely in her father's lap, her head buried in his shoulder.

"But why did he take Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "She's a pureblood."

Harry looked at Dumbledore who nodded serenely. "Yes, I've been very interested to know how Voldemort was possessing Ginny."

"Possessing her?" Arthur repeated. Harry explained about the diary.

"I think a celebration is in order." Dumbledore said when everyone's curiosity had been sated. "Harry, Ron, you have each won two hundred points for Gryffindor. I think in light of all this excitement, it would be appropriate to cancel exams, and we shall have a feast tomorrow night in your honor. You will also be pleased to know that the mandrakes have matured nicely. Everyone will be restored first thing tomorrow morning, and Hagrid is being freed from Azkaban as we speak."

Harry and Ron cheered.

"Well, you all have had quite a night." Dumbledore finally said. "Molly, Arthur, you should take Ginny to the hospital wing. I have no doubt that Madame Pomfrey is waiting impatiently for her. Ron, will you help Professor Lockhart, please?"

"Please, sir," came Ginny's voice. "Am I going to be expelled?"

"Of course not, my dear child. Far older and wiser witches than you have fallen under Voldemort's spell. Now, off you get." Ginny smiled. It transformed her whole face. Finally, Dumbledore and Harry were alone.

"Harry, I must thank you. Only true loyalty to me in the Chamber could have called Fawkes to you."

"I couldn't have done it without him. He saved my life," Harry said modestly.

"I must ask: has there been anything else on your mind, my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked. Harry told him all his fears about being the Heir of Slytherin.

"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he finished lamely.

"Then why didn't it?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know. I suppose because I asked it not to."

"Precisely, my dear boy. It is our choices who make us who we are. You chose not to be a Slytherin, and you are not one. Look at the sword in your hand." Harry didn't realize until that moment that he was still gripping the sword, the hat, and the ruined diary. Harry looked at it and saw the name "Godric Gryffindor" written on the hilt.

"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat." Dumbledore informed him. Harry smiled, feeling relieved.

Suddenly the door banged open and Lucius Malfoy barged in, a very distressed Dobby in tow. "What are you doing here?" He spat at Dumbledore. "You have been sacked."

"I got a call not too long ago from eleven of the twelve school governors asking me to return. They all had a very odd story about blackmail. I'm sure you wouldn't no anything about that."

"No," Lucius said coldly. Dobby was staring at Harry and motioning toward the diary. Suddenly a memory prickled of a months-old trick to Diagon alley when Lucius Malfoy dropped a book into Ginny Weasley's cauldron.

"It's your diary!" Harry said suddenly. "You gave it to Ginny!" Lucius's eyes swept over Harry.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. "Obviously, you have your father's talent for making false accusations." The he turned and swept out of the office. Seized by a rare flash of brilliance, Harry took off his shoe and put a filthy sock into the diary, closing it again to hide the sock.

"Mr. Malfoy! Wait!" He called, running after Malfoy. He handed Malfoy the diary. "You should have it back. It's yours, after all."

Then Lucius did exactly what Harry had expected him to do. He gave Harry a haughty glance and handed the diary impatiently to Dobby. Dobby stopped short when he found the sock. "Master has given Dobby a sock." Dobby said.

"What are you on about?" Lucius asked coldly.

"Master has given Dobby a sock! Dobby has been freed!"

Lucius rounded on Harry, "You just cost me a perfectly good house elf, boy!" He roared. He lifted his wand, but thought better of it when Dumbledore appeared behind Harry, placing a hand protectively on his shoulder. "I'll see that your father gets me a new one," he said fiercely, and then turned and left.

"Harry Potter is a great wizard, sir. Harry Potter has freed Dobby!" Dobby chirped. Harry smiled as Dobby disappeared with a loud pop.

Dumbledore led Harry back into the office. "And now it is time to talk to your father," he said.

Harry paled. "No, please don't tell him. Just let me go home. He probably hasn't even noticed I'm gone yet."

"And what's he going to think when he reads all of this in the papers? It will be far better if he hears it from you. Surely he won't be too angry to know you saved Ginny Weasley's life?"

"That part he'll be good with. It's the lying and stealing his cloak and sneaking out of the house and fighting a basilisk he'll have the problem with."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "You'll feel better once you've told him. If I know him, he'll be very proud of you."

"Not until after he's murdered me," Harry muttered, then he had an idea. "Can I go speak to Professor Black?"

"Why?" Dumbledore asked.

"He's good at keeping my dad calm. Maybe I'll get him to explain everything to him."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Shall we?" he asked offering Harry an arm, which Harry took. Together they made their way up to the Astronomy tower. It was nearly dawn when Dumbledore knocked politely on the door.

"You'll have to knock harder than that if you want to wake him up," Harry said. "SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed, banging loudly on the door. After several minutes of this, Sirius answered sleepily.

"Harry?" He asked, looking confused. "What in the world are you doing here?"


	15. Denials and Dissonance

_Warning for corporal punishment._

* * *

"And now my dad's going to murder me!" Harry finished pitifully. He was sitting on the couch in Sirius's living room and had just told him everything that had happened in him in the last several hours.

Sirius whistled and ran his fingers through his hair. "How do you manage to find so much trouble, Pronglet?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Harry asked shortly. "I keep telling everyone, the trouble always finds me."

"I don't think that excuse will work when the trouble started with you stealing your father's cloak and sneaking out of the house."

"He's going to murder me," Harry repeated forlornly.

"I doubt he'll murder you. I think his position as auror sort of precludes him from murdering people. If he murdered you, he'd have to arrest himself, and then I'd have to come up with a plan break him out of Azkaban. It's far too much work."

Harry was in no mood for jokes, "Okay, maybe he won't murder me, but he's going to be so angry."

"Probably," Sirius agreed.

"You have to help me, Sirius!" Harry said frantically.

"I don't know, Harry. I kind of think maybe you deserve to be murdered this time."

Harry stared at Sirius, his mouth open. It was rare indeed for Sirius to refuse to help him get out of trouble.

"You mean you really won't help me?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry, I won't. You got yourself bitten by a basilisk. It's only sheer dumb luck you're not dead! If you were my son, I'd murder you, too."

"I thought you said he wouldn't murder me."

"He won't, but I would. He's far nicer than I am. You really lucked out, getting him for your dad, you know."

"This isn't fair! I saved Ginny's life! I killed a basilisk! I solved a centuries-old mystery! I defeated Voldemort! Again! Why am I in trouble for this?" Harry moaned. He didn't feel particularly lucky at the moment.

"Come now," Sirius said. Harry found his lack of sympathy highly annoying. "I think you know that's not what you're in trouble for. Now I think you should get in touch with your dad right away before he wakes up and finds you gone. He may have already."

"Maybe not," Harry whined. "He likes to have a lie-in on Saturdays. Can't you just turn me into one of your marigold bunnies or something?"

"A marigold bunny? That's good, Pronglet. I might use that. But the answer is no. You're telling him everything. Right now." Sirius looked as stern as Harry thought he'd ever seen him. Harry took out his mirror and was just about to call his dad when James's frantic face appeared.

"Harry!" He said, startled. "Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Harry said. "I'm with Sirius. At Hogwarts."

"What are you doing there?" James asked, confused. Sirius took the mirror out of Harry's hand.

"You'd best come over here, James," he said.

"I'll be there in a moment."

"Sirius, won't you please do something?" Harry asked.

"I I won't let him murder you. After that, I make no promises."

True to his word, only a few minutes later James stepped out of the floo. He went straight to Harry and enveloped him in a warm embrace. "I was worried about you. What in the world has happened? The Daily Prophet says there was another attack last night, and I wake up to find you gone."

"I solved the riddle of the Chamber of Secrets." Harry said nervously.

"You what?" James asked.

"I solved the riddle. Ron and I did, actually. Hermione helped. We found the Chamber and figured out what was inside it. It was a basilisk. It's dead now, and Professor Sprout's restoring draught is ready. So everything's back to normal, you see. No reason for alarm." Harry words tumbled over one another trying to race out of his mouth, each coming faster than the last.

Sirius cleared his throat loudly.

"Why do I have the feeling you have a rather large part to play in all of this?" James asked, his countenance stern as he looked back and forth from Harry to Sirius.

"Sirius, you want to take this one?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Very much not, but nice try." Sirius said.

"Will someone please tell me what is going on here?" James asked, exasperated. Harry sighed and told him the whole story, trying to leave out the worst parts. James's eyes narrowed and his face got angrier and angrier as he listened, but he didn't speak until Harry had poured out the whole sorry tale.

"So, Lucius Malfoy might be contacting you about buying him a new house elf," Harry finished.

"And how did you manage to sneak around the corridors without getting caught if there were so many professors on guard?" James finally asked after a long and very uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, that, well, I sort of stolethinvisibilitycloak." Harry finished in a rush, dropping his voice so low that James had to strain to hear.

"You stole the invisibility cloak? The one I took from you because I didn't think I could trust you with it?" James asked icily.

"I saved Ginny Weasley!" Harry insisted. "She would have died."

"Is that why you sent me out for ice cream last night?"

Harry winced as he slowly nodded. James glared at him. Finally, he spoke. "I don't think I've ever been this angry at you in all your life." His voice was deathly calm. It sent chills up Harry's spine.

"But, Dad, everything's fine. Everyone's safe! There's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" James bellowed. "You lied to me! You sneaked out of your bed! You got bitten by a basilisk!"

"But I'm fine now," Harry said pleadingly.

James reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him roughly to the fireplace. "Come on, we're going home." He sent Harry through the floo. He was about to step through after him when Sirius grabbed the back of his robes. He turned, his gaze murderous.

"You have to calm down, James. You can't deal with him when you're this angry."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do with my son!" James bellowed.

"Don't shout at me, mate. I'm not the one you're angry at. I know Harry really fouled up this one, and I know you're angry at him. Hell, I'm angry at him, and how often does that happen? But promise me you'll calm down before you deal with him. Otherwise you might do something you'll really regret. Stay here for a bit if you need to be away from him. I've got a bottle of firewhiskey with your name on it."

"We'll be fine, Padfoot. I appreciate your concern. I promise I'll calm down before I murder him."

"Oh, about that, I sort of promised him I'd keep you from murdering him."

"On what grounds could you possibly make such a promise?"

"I'm his godfather." Sirius said with a shrug, "It's in the job description."

"He's lucky to have you."

"He's lucky to have you, too, although I doubt he thinks so right now."

"I have to go."

"Fine, but I'm coming round for lunch... just to make sure no one's been murdered."

James turned and threw his powder into the floo, yelled out his destination, and stepped through.

Harry went immediately to his bedroom when he got to their house. He winced when he heard James land downstairs and come charging up the stairs. "You are in more trouble than you've ever been in in your life. You're grounded for the rest of the summer, and as soon as I calm down, you've got a spanking coming your way," he said icily.

"What?" Harry shouted. Now that he thought about it, he knew he should have expected this, but he never did expect it. Spanking was so rare for his father. All the emotions he had been feeling a moment before as well as all the fear he felt in the Chamber now channeled themselves into hurt as his father's treatment of him. The hurt quickly turned to rage. "That's not fair! I haven't done anything wrong!" He shouted.

"Haven't done anything... not fair..." James sputtered, outraged. "You want to know what's not fair?" He shouted at the top of his voice. "What's not fair is me waking up this morning to find you gone and having no idea where you'd gone or what had happened to you! What's not fair is being lied to! What's not fair is finding out that you risked your life and didn't think it worth telling me about! What's not fair is that I don't think I can trust you anymore!" James finished, his face turning purple.

"I saved Ginny!" Harry shouted back, so angry that he could feel tears welling up behind his eyes. "I killed a basilisk, for crying out loud! Dumbledore gave me two hundred points. Mrs. Wealey said I'm a hero! You can't spank a hero!"

"I bloody well can if I am that hero's father!"

"You're the only person in the whole world who's not proud of me!"

James stared at him, breathing heavily. Harry glared back, his face defiant. Harry thought for a moment that his dad might hit him. He thought it would almost be a welcome change. It had to be better than the anger and rejection coursing through him right now. Instead, James did something Harry did not expect: he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him. A moment later, Harry heard the door of James's room slam as well. Harry's sobs broke then, hot, noisy tears of rage and hurt. His father didn't even want to look at him. Promising himself he would not submit to a spanking no matter what, he lay down on his bed, feeling utterly alone, and cried out all the fear from the previous night, as well as all the anger and rejection he now felt.

* * *

I saved Ginny!" Harry bellowed. "I killed a basilisk, for crying out loud! Dumbledore gave me two hundred points. Mrs. Wealey said I'm a hero! You can't spank a hero!"

"I bloody well can if I am that hero's father!" James said, quaking with rage. He could almost feel the hot fury radiating off himself in waves.

"You're the only person in the whole world who's not proud of me!"

James glared at his son. Before today, he never would have thought it was possible to be this angry at his beloved child. He wanted nothing more to reach out and slap Harry's face. The longer he stared at Harry's defiant expression, the more pronounced that desire became. Finally, he knew he would have to either do it or leave, so he turned and charged out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Then he stomped to his bedroom and slammed that door, too, just to make himself feel better.

Tears of rage were starting to leak out of his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so angry he cried. Possibly the day Peter Pettigrew was locked away, begging James for mercy as the dementors dragged him off to Azkaban. He let the tears come. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the anger was borne only out of love for his son and the very real fear of what could have happened to him down in the Chamber of Secrets. He paced the floor of his room, letting the tears fall unabated. He couldn't lose Harry; he just couldn't. As much as he hated it, he would spank him every day for the rest of his life if that's what it took to keep him safe.

He hadn't expected Harry to get so angry. Usually, he was even-minded about his punishments, accepting them in stride. He only got angry when he felt the punishments were unjustified, but how could he possibly think this was unjustified? James lifted his head with a gasp as he suddenly realized what was bothering Harry. He had done a really heroic thing, after all, going after Ginny, and now here he was being punished for it. James kicked himself when he realized that he had been so preoccupied with his own feelings, he hadn't seen that Harry was in need of reassurance and comfort after such a hard night.

"You're the only person in the whole world who's not proud of me," James whispered to the empty room, repeating Harry's parting words to him. "James Potter, you royal arse." Finally, he felt his anger dissolve, leaving him feeling empty and cold in its absence. He went to the washroom to wash his face. He didn't want Harry to know he'd been crying. When he was confident that all traces of tears were gone, he went to Harry's room and knocked on the door.

He didn't bother to wait for an answer before walking in. Harry was sitting on the bed hugging his knees and staring stonily at the floor. His cheeks were wet, and his eyes were red-rimmed but dry. James had not been the only one crying. James flashed back to a much younger Harry sitting on this same bed hugging his knees, tears streaming down his face, and waiting for his father to come give him the same punishment. James came and sat down next to Harry on the bed. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. I shouldn't have done it," he told his son.

"Well, I'm not sorry I shouted at you," Harry snapped. James sighed. He hated that Harry had inherited his temper, although in all fairness Lily's wasn't much better. The poor boy had never had much of a chance on that front, he thought to himself. James always wished he could have been one of those people who stayed calm when angry, like Remus, or someone who was very slow to anger, like Sirius. He wished even more that he knew how to teach those skills to his son.

James put a hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry jerked away. "Harry," James said quietly. "I know you're angry at me, and to be honest I deserve it. You know, when I listened to your story, I felt two things. First, I felt really, really frightened for you, and that was what made me so angry. But I also felt incredibly proud of you. I made a mistake letting the anger show before the pride, and I'm sorry. What you did was extraordinarily brave, but it was also extraordinarily reckless. It's the reckless part that you're in trouble for, not the brave part. I'm proud of you for rescuing Ginny. So very, very proud of you. I'm proud of you every second of every day. Please don't ever again think that I'm not. But I wouldn't be a very good parent if I let you get away with lying and stealing and sneaking around just because something good happened to come of it. Why in the world didn't you just come to me?"

"I didn't expect to fight a basilisk when I left!" Harry said. "We just wanted to question Myrtle - she's the girl who died last time the Chamber was opened. We thought maybe she would know something. Ron was going to do it alone, but he couldn't get around without the cloak, so I took it to him. I planned to come straight back, and he was going to tell McGonagall what we found out. You weren't even supposed to know I was gone. The rest of it just sort of happened in the moment."

"I understand, and I've changed my mind about the grounding. You're only grounded for two weeks."

"And the spanking?" Harry asked softly.

"That's still going to happen. What you did was very dangerous, and I wouldn't be doing you any favors if I didn't treat it as such."

"I don't think I deserve a spanking." Harry told him matter-of-factly.

"I think you do," James said gently, but firmly. "And I'm the one who gets to make that decision."

"And what if I refuse to let you?" Harry asked, his voice regaining its hard edge.

James took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "Then you will be grounded to your room until you change your mind, but I really hope you won't decide to go that route. I made my dad do that to me a few times, and I always regretted it."

Harry thought for a moment. "This isn't fair," he finally muttered.

"I think you know it is," James said, putting an arm around Harry's shoulder. Rather than jerking away from his father's touch, this time he leaned into it, dropping his cheek onto James's shoulder.

"I'm too old for a spanking."

"You're getting there." James admitted. "Today, however, you are not too old, but it would not surprise me if this is your last one. Actually, I expected the last one to be your last one. I expected the one before that to be your last one as well, for that matter. Your propensity for getting into trouble sure seems to have increased in the last couple of years."

"I guess I shouldn't have lied to you." Harry confessed.

"No, you most certainly shouldn't have."

"Do you really not trust me anymore?" Harry fought the tears that threatened to fall afresh as he heard the question come out if his mouth. Of all the things his father had said to him, that had been the one that stung the most. He waited for his father's answer, hoping against hope that it would be an answer he would like.

"I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said it. Of course I trust you." There was a very brief pause before he added, more sternly, "But you had best never lie to me again."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and decided to accept his father's punishment, promising himself that this would finally be the time he wouldn't cry, even as he felt the constriction in his throat that told him he would. "I won't. I promise." Harry assured him, softly. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm really, really sorry."

"I forgive you." James said quickly, thankful for the change in his son's demeanor. His contrition would make this much easier. "Do you understand now why you're being punished?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I understand, but I still don't like it."

"You're not supposed to like it," James said with a very small, very sad smile. "I'd be very worried about you if you did. Now stand up."

Harry stood in front of his father, waiting for the order to bend over. His heart was beating hard in his chest.

"You do know I don't want to do this, right?" James asked. Harry nodded mutely. "My dad used to always tell me it hurt him more than it did me. I thought he was mental. Once I even suggested we trade places. It's true, though. I hate having to do this to you."

Harry stared at the ground, not sure what to say. He was tempted to suggest that James not do it if he hated it so much, but he very much doubted that suggestion would be well-received. "I'm sorry," was what he finally settled on.

James put a finger under Harry's chin and forced his face up. Searching his father's eyes, Harry saw only love and concern there. James's anger, like Harry's, was completely gone. That was how the Potter temper usually went, like a shooting star, burning brightly one moment and gone the next, leaving very little trace of it ever having been there at all.

"I love you, Harry James Potter," James said. Harry nodded again, not trusting himself to speak. "Come here and lie down on my lap," came the order. Harry did as he was told.

Above Harry, James was warring with himself. He made his decision and lifted Harry's robes to spank him directly on his pants. This was something he had never done; he had only spanked Harry over his robes before, but he wanted to make a lasting impression. He hoped he was doing the right thing as he raised his hand.

Harry wrapped his arms around James's leg for comfort and support when he felt his robes being lifted, but he didn't fight it. He trusted James and vowed to accept whatever James thought he deserved. He gasped aloud as the first smack fell; he couldn't believe how much more painful it was over just his pants. He tried not to cry, just as he always did, but on the eighth smack, his bravado broke. Four smacks later, it was finally over.

Harry rose on his father's command, promising himself that this would indeed be his last spanking. He took the handkerchief his father gave him and sobbed into it, dabbing it roughly at his eyes as though he could somehow staunch their flow with the small square of cotton. When he had calmed a little, he stepped toward his father seeking assurance of forgiveness. His father gave it readily, holding him tightly while he cried. Finally, Harry looked up and was surprised to see tears in James's eyes.

"Stay in here and get yourself calmed down," James said softly. "Come down when you're ready, and we'll have a talk. I think I'd like to hear your story again when I can listen a little more intently." Then he kissed Harry on the forehead and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Harry lay down on the bed and put a pillow over his face. As soon as he did it, he realized how tired his sleepless, emotional night had left him. As he lay there, he soon fell asleep


	16. Feasts and Frustrations

Sirius stepped into the Potters' living room just as the grandfather clock in the hall was chiming twelve. Remus came out a step behind him. "Hello," Sirius called, "Harry? James? Is everyone still breathing?"

"I'm in the kitchen." James called back.

"Where's Harry?" Remus asked lightly as they came into the kitchen.

"He's in his room. He's out cold."

"You knocked him out?" Sirius asked. "You're only supposed to hit them on the bum, mate."

"He's asleep," James said with mock annoyance. "He had a long night, in case you weren't aware, what with all the basilisk-killing and damsel-in-distress-rescuing."

"You're making jokes. That's a good sign." Remus pointed out.

"But they weren't very good jokes," Sirius countered. "Certainly not your best work. Are you sure Harry hasn't been murdered?"

"I'm sure. Would you like me to get him down here so you can see for yourself? I was just about to call him for lunch anyway."

"Yes, please do, I'm not done scolding him," Sirius said.

"And I haven't had a chance to scold him at all yet," Remus added.

"I think he's been scolded enough." James said.

"If you think he's been scolded enough, it's almost certain that he hasn't." Remus said.

"Leave him be. It's been taken care of. Trust me." James said as he left to wake Harry up. They emerged a few minutes later, Harry yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"He lives!" Sirius said loudly as soon as he caught sight of Harry.

"Hello," Harry said sheepishly.

"Is that all you have to say to me is hello?" Sirius said sternly, putting his fists on his hips.

"Yes," Harry replied, seating himself at the table.

"No respect, Remus. You see what I put up with from him?" Sirius said, his face breaking into a smile as he sat across from Harry. James was bringing out soup and sandwiches. Remus and James joined them.

"James, are you going to let Harry coming to the feast at Hogwarts tonight?" Sirius asked.

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" Harry protested around the bite of sandwich in his mouth. "It's in my honor! Well, mine and Ron's."

"I'm not mad at you anymore, but I'm not ready to celebrate what you did just yet, either. Consider it part of your punishment."

"But you already spanked me!" Harry said, then he flushed furiously as soon as he realized what Remus and Sirius had just heard.

"You know, it's the strangest thing," Sirius said. "I think I've just gone temporarily deaf."

"Me too," Remus said, following Sirius's lead. "Odd, isn't it?"

"Must be a new wizard's disease that only affects thirty-three year old virgins." Sirius said bluntly.

"Speak for yourself," Remus retorted.

Sirius and James both roared with laughter. Harry turned, if possible, even redder.

"Moony, you made a joke! And it was actually funny!" James said.

"His first joke," Sirius responded. "They grow up so fast."

"Don't worry, I won't let it go to my head," Remus deadpanned.

"I would like it known that I'm not really a virgin." Sirius explained, "I haven't been one of those since I was--"

"I really don't want to hear this!" Harry yelled, clamping his hands over his ears. The men resumed their raucous laughter.

"Have you had the talk with him yet, Prongs?"

"Yes, of course," James replied airily.

"You probably didn't do a very good job. Don't worry, Pronglet, I've got your back. Now, when you see a pretty girl--"

"Are there any cliffs near here?" Harry interrupted to ask, "I think I'd fancy a walk off one."

"I think you should let him go to the feast, James," Sirius said when the laughter had died down. "It is in his honor after all. The school ought to be allowed to thank him properly. I'll keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."

"Like the way you kept an eye on him when he was sent on a rescue mission that involved a dragon?" James asked.

"You told him about Norbert?" Harry asked, shocked.

"What?" Sirius responded innocently. "At least I didn't tell him about the mountain troll."

"What mountain troll?" James asked as Harry threw his forehead into his palm. Sirius began to laugh.

"Nothing, there was no mountain troll. Mountain trolls don't even exist. They're a figment of your imagination." Harry replied. Sirius was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"What mountain troll?" James asked again, slower.

"It's a long story," Harry said.

"I've got time," James responded, a twinkle in his eye.

"Why is it that whenever I've got a story that I don't want to tell you, you've always got time? Why can't a bunch of dark wizards ever get into trouble the same day I do?" Harry asked, exasperated. This caused James and Remus to join in Sirius's laughter.

"I agree with Sirius," Remus said when they had calmed, surprising them all. "I think you should let Harry go to the feast."

"Fine," James slowly agreed, "but no more exceptions. You're still grounded."

"Thanks, Dad! Oh, by the way, Remus, did you know that Hogwarts exams have been canceled?"

"Have they?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry nodded, looking at him expectantly.

"It's true, they have," Sirius commented.

"Well then it's very lucky for you that I'm around. I would never deprive you of the joy of exams, especially not after you've just proven that you clearly have far too much free time on your hands."

"That's cold, Moony," Sirius said with a smile.

"Studying will give you something to do while you're grounded," James offered.

"The chamber's closed now, right? So that means I can go back to Hogwarts!" Harry tried. "You said I could as soon as it was safe."

"For all of a week?" James asked. "That's hardly worth it, especially considering how very, very grounded you are."

"Do you reckon Harry's been grounded, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"I think I heard a rumor about that," Remus replied.

"You know what I heard a rumor about?" James asked, trying not to smile. "A mountain troll. Start talking."

Harry sighed and glared at Sirius, who was too busy laughing to notice. "This one really wasn't my fault," he began.

* * *

Harry sat with Ron and the newly-restored Hermione at the feast. Practically the whole school came by to congratulate him and apologize for suspecting him. Only the Slytherins refrained from sharing in his triumph. They sat glaring at him from the other side of the hall. He made it a point to smile and wave at Draco Malfoy.

All of the staff except Snape stopped by to offer their praise and thanks. Even Dumbledore made an appearance. "Budge up, you two," he told the Weasley twins, who were seated across from Harry. They moved quickly, making space for the headmaster between them.

"Harry, my boy, it's so nice to see you. I trust your father wasn't too hard on you?" Dumbledore asked as he seated himself.

"He was pretty angry." Harry admitted.

"I know. I had a howler from him this afternoon. He was less than thrilled by my decision to award you points. I also had an earful from my Astronomy Professor."

"Sorry," Harry offered.

"Don't worry, my boy, it's not the first howler I ever got, and I doubt it'll be the last, although it may well have been the most impressive one I've ever gotten."

"Yes, he's very good at shouting." Harry agreed.

"I suppose I should tell you that I expect you to be a little less reckless when you rejoin us," Dumbledore said, turning a stern look on Harry. "I trust you will be rejoining us?"

"Next term," Harry informed him. "My dad says there's no point in coming back for only a week."

"I meant to ask you this morning, how have your lessons with Mr. Lupin been?"

"Really great," Harry told him. "He's a very good teacher, even if he is making me take exams."

"How is he with Defense Against the Dark Arts? I seem to find myself short a teacher."

"He's brilliant!" Harry enthused. "How's Professor Lockhart doing?"

"His memory's completely gone. He's been transferred to St. Mungo's. I lose more Defense teachers there."

"We do seem to go through them rather quickly, don't we?" Fred asked.

"Quite," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"Isn't the position cursed?" Ron asked, his mouth full of roast chicken.

"That's just a rumor. A person can't very well curse a position," Hermione explained patiently.

"How else do you explain it?" Ron asked, his mouth full of buttered roll.

"Honestly, do you think we want to see everything you're eating whenever you talk?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Ron asked, his mouth full of peas.

Hermione rolled her eyes while Harry laughed.

"Well, Harry, I'll leave you to your feast. I've got an owl to send."

"Do you think Remus will come?" Hermione asked after Dumbledore had gone.

"I bet he will." Ron said, his mouth full of rice.

"Bloody Hell," Harry said as a thought occurred to him, "I'll never get away with anything if he's here. I'm going to end up spending the rest of my life in detention."

"Maybe you should try not breaking the rules," Hermione said.

"Like us." Fred quipped.

"Yes, we never get into trouble," George agreed. "You should come visit us this summer, we'll give you lessons in how to behave."

"If you start taking lessons from them, you'll be expelled within a week!" Hermione said, but Harry wasn't listening. He was too busy laughing.

* * *

Two weeks later, Harry, Sirius, and Remus sat in the dining room at Sirius's summer home in Wales. Harry's grounding would be over the next day and Sirius and Remus had talked James into bringing him round for the day so they could spend some time with him while he was still a captive audience. James had been there that morning, but was called into work that afternoon. He told them he didn't expect to be too long, but dinner had been over for nearly an hour when he finally stepped over the grate into the living room, looking exhausted.

"What's happened, mate?" Sirius asked. He recognized the look on James's face as being one that only accompanied very bad news.

"There's been a breakout from Azkaban."

"I thought it was impossible to break out of Azkaban," Sirius said, his face growing pale.

"So did we," James said darkly. "This is the first breakout there's ever been. We have no idea how it happened. We think he must have had outside help. There's simply no other explanation."

"Who was it?" Remus asked.

"Peter Pettigrew," James informed them.

There was nothing but silence until Harry spoke. "What was he in for?"

_THE END_


End file.
